Dragon's song
by AnnTaylor87
Summary: Oberyn Martell has one trueborn daughter. Her mother should be lysene noblewoman and they should just pay a visit to Elia and little Aegon. But other things are waiting in King's Landing. Intriguing Rhaegar, mad Aerys and fire. Fire and blood. Basically, my version of start of Robert's rebellion. And that wouldn't be nice like "we escaped together for love". Not at all.
1. Chapter 1

_**NOTE! I had to change the age of some characters. Oberyn has to be few years older - in this story, on the begining of Robert's rebellion, he must be at least 32, rather more. Which means Doran is older too and Elia married late, because she is still the middle child.**_

 _ **Next, Oberyn has just 4 daugters for now - OC Jeanna, Obara, Nym and Tyene. Maybe Sarella, I'm not sure yet, and Ellaria is not yet his paramour.**_

 _ **Then, I don't like the show from the season 5 much, but I didn't avoid using some of show lore instead of book, because it was simplified (stupidified) and fitted better in my story. But it's mostly according to the book. And last thing, I made Jon Connington Hand of the King earlier, already in time of peace. The rest you will find :)**_

* * *

Sitting in a saddle of her horse, she tried to get herself next to her father as quickly as possible through the streets, but to no purpose. There were too many people all around and the streets to the Red Keep were so narrow, that she couldn't ride faster than by walking speed. The only reason she didn't dismount was her fear, that there could be thieves and rapists among the passers and they could rob anything from the pearls on her dress to her bridle. Not that she couldn't defend herself or start a fight if needed, not that she hadn't her father or guards nearby, but she simply didn't want to face unnecessary conflicts.

But she couldn't overlook and mainly overhear some bard, who sat on the stairs in Baker Street and sang a slow and sad song about some young girl lost among dragons and played his harp. First she only listened to his pleasant but little bit gloomy voice and then she realized, how dangerous it could be in present times. The bard could be marked as a traitor for such lyrics.

But when she rode around him, she thought, that it would be a shame. And not just for his evident talent. She told herself, that man like him shouldn't sit on streets but play in halls of the loftiest castles. His hair was hidden under his hood of a dark red cloak but his pale skin was lightened up by mysterious dark eyes, maybe black, blue, grey or completely different. And when he raised those eyes and met hers, he stopped singing and gave her similarly mysterious, not quite cheerful smile. He was simply very handsome.

And then, he unexpectedly extended his arm and handed her one red rose. After that, he sat again, touched the strings of his harp and other tones of another song sounded. But by that time, princess Jaenna Martell was drifted away with the crowd and her sand steed.

"Very talented bard," she said to her companion when streets were free enough to ride side by side. But prince Oberyn, man in his prime, feared warrior and adored lover of all Dorne, just smiled.  
"It is a shame, that I couldn't dismount. I could invite him to us. Gods know that aunt Elia would welcome some distraction."  
"Surely Elia?" Oberyn finally looked with a grin at his oldest daughter, who had recently celebrated her sixteenth name-day. "Surely not some other young lady looking for distraction in young bards, who will whisper nonsense about knights and fair maidens in her ears?"  
"I do not know, do you know such lady, father?" she returned the same grin and same coin. "But it is a shame to waste talent on the streets. He would already sit in Water Gardens, would he be in Dorne."  
"If you long so much for his singing, I am fairly sure, that he will find his way into the palace. This one certainly knows it," he stopped her, as if he knew something more, but didn't let her ask what, because they were close to the gate of Red Keep, the royal palace in King's Landing.  
"Once we arrive, we let lead us directly to Elia, whoever will welcome us. I don't want to be unnecessarily in King's sight, do you understand? I know how you love wandering around and I am not afraid in Dorne or in the middle of the Oldtown, but here you must stay away from him."

Jaenna nodded and kept all her remarks for herself. Her father had warned her before they left the Sunspear to keep away from the rest of royal family during their visit of her father's sister, princess Elia. Maybe except prince Rhaegar. And especially away from King Aerys, whom his subjects called Mad King in whispers.

"I don't know, what I will do all days, then."  
"You undoubtedly can find some entertainment. I, for example, heard of certain madam Chataya from Summer Isles and her business..."  
"Oh, you really think only about this?" Jaenna rolled her eyes because she knew, what business it would be.  
"No fear. I also hope for someone to cross my sword with. Or rather spear."  
"Of course. A bed and then battlefield. Or battlefield and then bed.-"  
"-Show them the Dornish way," they said together and even if Jaenna had never been attracted to activities her father loved, perhaps except training with sword and spear, and still maiden, she smiled. Dorne was just hot-blooded and didn't avoid pleasures as other kingdoms, her father loved to make a little show, and she didn't take amiss her companions. She even loved Obara, Nymeria and Tyene as sisters, although they were an outcome of her father's many philanders all over the world and none of them, unlike her, come from wedlock.

Maybe it was better, she thought. At least, she didn't have to worry, that the fate of her mother would repeat itself. That woman died and left young prince, who was said to marry her because of sudden impulse and recklessness, with a small child. And even before that, her health didn't let her see her daughter too often and travel from Lys to Dorne. Therefore, Jaenna even doubted, whether her father told the truth and really settled during his exile in Lys, where he headlessly married a local noblewoman. Because the only thing, that she remembered about her mother, was a nice face, silver hair and brightly purple eyes, while lysene Pleasure houses are famous for valyrian looking whores.

On the other hand, prince Doran had always assured her. He used to tell her, that if she weren't Oberyn's true heir, who couldn't stay with her mother, he would not let his brother return home earlier just because of concern about his child. And even if she knew, that Doran had never protested against Oberyn's other children - he, as the rest of Dorne, didn't see bastards as inferior and despicable - she understood. He would not stir the dispute, what got Oberyn to exile, up again only for a Sand snake.

Then they rode through the gate and were welcomed by some red-haired man in tunic and cloak with white and red griff.  
"Prince Oberyn, princess Jeanna, welcome in King's Landing. I hope, your journey was comfortable."  
"Not worse than usual. Summer on the Dornish Sea is quite peaceful. Jeanna, this is lord Connington, the Hand of the King," Oberyn dismounted, politely gave a hand to his daughter, who followed him, and introduced the very first citizen of the city, which whom she actually talked.  
"The Hand of the King himself came to greet us? That is an honor," she smiled and let him kiss her hand.  
"Unfortunately, I am afraid, that not as big honor, as should be for the family of our princess Elia. But prince Rhaegar is now outside the palace and princess herself is still too weak, so this task is mine. Please, follow me. I show you the way to your chambers."

Jaenna looked at her father, but couldn't read anything in his face. It seemed to her, that this lord Connington is not so thrilled about their arrival as he pretended, at least according to his tone, which was polite, but didn't cover certain coldness and distance. She thought, that it could be just all his work, that has the Hand of the Mad king to do, and their royal visit was simply too much. At least, they came by themselves and didn't bring more than few gurads with their belongings to bother, so she entered chilly passage of the palace.


	2. Chapter 2

Their accommodations were more than luxurious, despite they were not in the biggest chambers in the keep. Jaenna's chamber contained red carpets, a huge bed with carved columns, comfortable velvety chairs and a little balcony with a view on the sea while Oberyn's on the opposite side had windows to the courtyard. Servants immediately brought their belongings, Jaenna quickly changed from riding clothes and both, after parting with lord Connington and asking one of the ladies-in-waiting for directions to the royal chambers, headed to princess Elia and her newborn son Aegon.

But their visit was too short to enjoy. Little Aegon, baby about whom could Jaenna barely tell whether he looks like his parents, slept, and Elia lied on her bed, pale, tired and skinny despite her recent childbirth. She was glad to see her family, welcomed them warmly, heard greetings from her eldest brother Doran, prince of Dorne, and stories about her little nieces, Doran's Arianne and Oberyn's Sand snakes, as people called them, when they showed natural talent for martial weapons, and about Quentyn, Arianne's brother. She also let summon princess Rhaenys, her elder daughter, sweet child with dornish dark hair and a black kitten named Baleroin after dragon of Aegon the Conqueror, to greet her uncle, but she was too tired to follow their conversation in the end and needed some sleep.

"I feel sorry for her," Jaenna told Oberyn when they walked together back into their chambers to finally unpack.  
"She will be all right. When Rhaenys was born, she looked like this but healed. She handles it even now."  
"But when she said, that prince spends so much time traveling or in the library... I feel sorry. He is her husband, he should cherish her. He doesn't need to be in love with her, they didn't marry for this, but this is his duty."  
"You are right. And that is also the reason, why I don't press you to marry."  
"Oh and I thought, that it is because as a daughter of the younger brother I will inherit just your spear and next ten sisters, whom you will surely bring who knows where from, anyway. So no one would want me," she said more gaily. She never minded, that her father was not the prince of Dorne or that she was not the next heir of the kingdom, but her little cousin was. She, at least, didn't have to care for anything, and even if her septa taught her how to be a proper lady, Oberyn martial arts and Doran approved history, languages and politics lessons, things mainly meant for his children, she didn't have to worry, that she wouldn't master it and bring Dorne to bankruptcy.

"There is a lot of young men, who would be interested in your hand in marriage. Even Yronwoods had the nerve to try their luck."  
"Did they go mad? How could they think, that I would marry someone, who played kings before Nymeria arrived and made us servants?" Jaenna frowned.  
"Maybe they would like to rule some of us again. But I refused. You will marry when you'll find someone, whom you'll want. Or someone, whom will be impossible to refuse, and the one, whom you'll want, you'll let as your lover."  
"Neither one nor the other will happen. I don't need to marry. To see men around me is enough to lose appetite."  
Oberyn laughed.  
"Not all men are like that stag from Storm's End, who should rather call himself Bull."  
"Robert is a great company for hunting in the woods on the other shore of the Sea of Dorne, even if I haven't seen him for a long time now. But all men were like him yet. Hot-blooded, stubborn, keen on a fight, fit to reach the first whore, who pushes out her-" but then she stopped and blushed. Some tall person with silver hair and red cloak emerged from the bend of the corridor and undoubtedly heard all her lamentations.

"My prince," Oberyn motioned a bow and Jaenna blushed even more. Not only she talked about whores in front of a stranger, but she talked about them in front of the crown prince of Westeros. Therefore, she dug her eyes into the floor and lowered her head. She couldn't prepare a better introduction.  
"I see, that you managed to visit Elia. I am glad that you are here. She looked forward to it."  
The voice seemed familiar to Jaenna. It wasn't too quiet nor too loud, it had a pleasant tone and as if there was a sting of sadness. But she couldn't remember, from when should she know it, and felt too embarrassed to look up.  
"And it's also an honor to meet you, princess Jaenna."  
That forced her to look at the prince. And she felt not just her blush but like she turned into stone. Now he didn't have a hood over his head, but she recognized that face, those eyes and this smile immediately. The bard, who gave her rose on the street between baker shops and whom she wanted to play in the palace. Just he was no bard.

"Y... your grace..." she stammered and had nothing more to say, even after a long period, when she teased their home guard and fierce Robert Baratheon from Storm's End when he visited home while serving as a squire in the Vale.  
She didn't look like her mother. She had her father's dark, wavy hair, dark eyes and skin tanned by the dornish sun. No one could say just by looking whether there circulated a few drops of dragon blood in her as circulated in the lysene woman, with who Oberyn run into a headless romance sixteen years ago. But now she felt like hundred dragons burned in her.  
"I... apologize, I didn't mean... what I said was... not all..."  
Rhaegar stopped her babbling.  
"I heard nothing that could shock or offend me."  
"I... I'm glad. I apologize."  
"There is no need. I heard a mention of lord Baratheon. Maybe that one is right," he smiled a little.  
"You know him?"  
"I knew his father. I am very sorry, what happened to him because of me."  
"Me too. When I found out... I don't know if I've ever heard something more tragic," she had to nod in agreement.

When Robert once unduly enjoyed dornish red, he told her, how he and his brother Stannis stood on the walls of Storm's End and watched a ship with their parents returning home from unsuccessful search for prince Rhaegar's wife in Essos. How they looked forward to finally welcome them back, and how suddenly the sails didn't handle the gust of a violent storm, the whole ship lost direction, swayed on the waves within sight of the shore right before their own horror-struck eyes, overturned and sank, and the only one whom they found washed-up after several days, was the half-witted fool Patchface. She couldn't imagine that horror. That also probably was the first and the last time, when she saw Robert truly unhappy and broken by this terrible memory.

"You are a compassioned soul, princess. And even very curious, I heard. May I show you the rest of the palace?"  
Jaenna looked at her father, who stood behind her all the time and fixed the young prince with his eyes. He wasn't an unknown person to him. He had the honor to meet his brother-in-law at the wedding and after Rhaenys birth, and he also didn't forbid his daughters to seek whatever fellows they wanted and go for what they wanted, once he taught them to defend themselves. He was always telling them, that he wouldn't guard them against their own efforts to seduce someone unworthy or their choosing of wrong friends, lovers or husbands. He just gave them an opportunity to know how to resist them and to make such choice. He gave them an opportunity to be responsible for their own lives.  
Yet something didn't seem good in the way Rhaegar looked at his daughter. He always had a melancholic face and his eyes only little sparkled with life. It wasn't much different now. But he still could notice a flash of interest in his look and he didn't like at all the fact, that he gave her his favor outside the walls, although he had to see who she was and although there lied his wife with his newborn son in the royal chambers. But he said nothing, Jaenna accepted Rhaegar's arm and they went together into, for her unknown, entrails of the Red Keep


	3. Chapter 3

_**I'm updating very soon and just very short part, but there were some questiones, that made me realize I have to clear some things, so I need to do it.**_

 _ **Arianna Le Fay asked about Jaenna's eyes. I said they're dark, I didn't mention colour, and this topic will be in next chapters :) But about Lyanna... she will be only mentioned. The hero of this story is Jaenna, it's very Jaenna-centric (also I love Dorne, therefore it will be more about Martells), and it's my own version of Robert's rebellion causes, so it's not really Rhaegar/Lyanna actions, they don't care about each other here, so yes, I'm changing the cannon. But if there is "rebellion part" (I'm not sure yet), it will contain Lyanna. In my own version, what just occured to me and bring almost everything back to cannon in the end. I'm hurrying to note it for future :)**_

 _ **Jaime on the other hand, for another questioner, will appear. He is member of the Kingsguard, so he is in the Red Keep and will be around. And the age of my OC is in the first chapter - 16.**_

* * *

First they walked in silence, in which only the rustle of Jaenna's lightweight blood orange dress on the stone floor was faintly heard. She already noticed, that her style was significantly different from King's Landing's style, upon their arrival into the upmarket parts of the city. Unlike local ladies, she was used to wear light and airy materials, loose sleeves, that reminded more a vail than dress, she didn't try cover anxiously her shoulders or have a prudish neckline, at least inside the castle, and she wore her own leather breeches and riding boots until she changed. Thus something, what women outside Dorne wear very rarely. But it was common for her and on the contrary, she wondered, that the other women didn't boil alive in their heavy materials and long trumpet sleeves. She liked much more the dresses of servants and maids from lowborn families. They didn't enjoy or couldn't afford aristocratic habits and copying Targaryen women and preferred practicality.

But when they finally reached the top of the stairs and several other corridors awaited them, Rhaegar broke the silence.  
"That way are the chambers of our Grandmaester. But the others lead to the Throne room, the library or outside, on the courtyard. What would you like to see?"  
"I think, that... I heard about dragon skulls as everybody, but... I don't want to interrupt anything, what may be happening in the Throne room right now," Jaenna answered and secretly hoped, that she would have the opportunity to look into it without drawing the attention of King Aerys. Everyone, who came into the city, longed to see, what remained after the huge, majestic dragons, with which Targaryens so long maintained their power over Westeros.  
"Throne room is usually empty. Matters of the realm are dealt with only in the morning and as long as the Small council does not settle something important, that requires immediate announcement, the court is not called. Even if a lot of people don't know it, it's mostly empty."  
"Then I will be honored if you show me."

He headed with her down one of the corridors. They passed guards in armor and helmets with dragon sigil, as the royal house required, and then they reached a large forged doors, which Rhaegar opened easily. They found it really empty. Apart from several big shadows alongside the walls.  
"Oh!" Jaenna ran forward without thinking, directly to the biggest of all nineteen toothed skulls.  
"They are fascinating, aren't they? This is Balerion the Black Dread. The biggest dragon which ever appeared in Westeros."  
"And which Aegon the Conqueror rode. It's... frighteningly beautiful," Jaenna looked in the empty eye sockets of the giant skull. She didn't feel fear, it was just a skull. Just shadow of the thing, that once was the animal wearing it under it's skin. But she felt like it was watching her.  
"And this?" she pointed to slightly smaller one, but not too small, a few steps further.  
"Vhagar. Dragon of queen Visenya. The second one of three conquering dragons. The third one-"  
"Meraxes. It died with Rhaenys in the dornish desert. And now here is new Rhaenys and her mother is from Dorne. I know. It's ironic. And also strange, that you led me to thoughts about the unnecessary death of our ancestors again."  
"You think it was unnecessary?"  
"Most deaths are. Men imagine that it's heroic to die in some battle or some immense disaster, what will enter the history. But in fact, it is unnecessary. The only death, that is worth it, is death for justice."  
"That is a daring statement."  
"But true. Why lie about heroes and heroic battles? Why don't simply admit, that I like to fight and I'll probably die in one some day? Just as someone else likes to sit on the throne or suck candy and probably die on that some day? What heroic is on any of this? Why hide passion in words about necessity and songs? Why don't rather live it openly?"

Rhaegar didn't answer that and just looked at her. Then he turned back to the skulls.  
"Maybe it's not always so easy."  
Jaenna already had other words on her tongue and she almost asked, what is his passion, but she stopped herself. She realized, that it would be very inappropriate. She rather returned her thoughts to dragons.  
"Do you know names of the rest?"

Rhaegar soon showed her all displayed remains and added a short story about every one of them to the tour.  
"It seems that dragons are your great fondness, my prince."  
"Or my destiny," he shrugged and reluctantly looked away from the last skull, deformed and tiny, lying on the dais right next to the Iron Throne, where they both stood.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Did you hear about Summerhall?"  
"That burned summer seat of your family?"  
Rhaegar nodded.  
"I was born there. In the very same day, when my great grandfather Aegon V tried to hatch a couple of eggs. They say it was a terrible tragedy. No dragons arose from it, of course, but Summerhall, Aegon and plenty other people... turned to ashes."  
"And you... were born in the middle of that chaos? The queen must be a very strong woman. Just a pity, that it was a vain attempt."  
Jaenna has actually never heard about events in Summerhall. She just knew, that it burned down before she was born and that it was not far from dornish passes, but no one ever wanted to talk about it.

"Dragons are simply over. Nobody knows how to bring them back. I tried to find some direction in various old writings, but I've never got so far."  
"I would like if anyone managed it."  
"That sounds like dragons are your fondness too."  
"Maybe... I have something, what brought me to it," she smiled at him and winked, thereby she ensured, that he gave her full attention.  
"Really?"  
Jaenna nodded.  
"My father brought me it from his journeys around Essos. When my uncle Doran allowed his return and settled me in Water Gardens, he started to travel again. And he brought me it last year. It's... beautiful."  
"But what?" Rhaegar's expression was confused.  
Jaenna leaned closely toward him as if she feared hidden ears.  
"An egg."


	4. Chapter 4

She knew it was not easy to find it. Dragon's eggs are, even if mostly fossilized or damaged, very expensive and held as treasure in the world. Although no one abounded in knowledge how to hatch them anymore. But who had them, couldn't consider himself poor. Even if they were just his decoration.

Oberyn found this one when he got with the Golden Company, the most famous mercenary company of Essos, past the gates of the Free city of Volantis, which hired them. He regularly rotated periods at home with family, friends, and paramours, periods of exploring the world and periods of satisfying his desires on battlefields for good pay. And this was one of them. He didn't care much what was their task and what Volantis wanted to achieve. He only cared about exotic places, exotic women, and fights and found enough.  
And at the same time, he found a luxuriously dressed trader with three slaves carrying several wooden chests upon his early evening way into the brothel through the streets full of all sorts of people.  
He immediately guessed, that this man was from the old and strange city Qarth due to his pale milk skin and clothes, and the trader guessed, that this would be Westerosi, so he promptly stopped. While people of Essos paid little attention to the words about mysterious or ancient artefacts with powerful effects from isle Ib or distant lands of Yi Ti, because every other seller tried to deceive them this way, Westerosi usually believed everything, so he expected to fill his pockets with gold.

But Oberyn had no intention to let himself be fooled. He waved his hand over all potions and old hag's spells, as someone who could be master of poisons, as well as over laces, fancy belts and insect-like pins. While it could be something for his daughters and niece, he didn't plan early return and didn't want to constantly mind load of trinkets for girls in the army at all times.  
But then the last chest, what the more than willing trader eager to profit didn't mention nor open, caught his eye. It was a dark mahogany and a lot smaller than the others. Yet more opulent.  
"What is in there?" he asked the Quartheen who was theatrically wiping his tears after his rejection of a dagger inlaid with rubies from Asshai. Oberyn knew, that weep exaggeratedly and overact emotions were custom for Quartheens, but it didn't change the fact, that it seemed mawkish to him.  
"Oh, very valuable commodity. The most valuable I have. But you would not be interested. No, no, you are not interested in something so exciting and mysterious."  
"Probably not," Oberyn agreed and was about to go away, which, as he expected, made the Qartheen act.  
"It is one of the few pieces that can boast such dark origin. Maybe the only one. Directly from Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. I myself brought it from the city when I was there the last time. But its price is high."  
"Price of what? Another magic nonsense? Poisoned emerald or chopped monkey paw?" Oberyn chuckled. Everyone knew Asshai and the Shadow Lands as dark places full of dark magic that might not be real but definitely didn't make them pleasant, so most people avoided them.  
"You will see yourself and admit the truth. But I have to warn you. Such commodity often causes various urges and thoughts. And if you show interest and try to take it without paying high, very high price, you will see, that my slaves are not only carriers. As you may understand, I primarily need protection on my journeys."

Oberyn nodded, amused and confident that none of that three poor men could be a proper opponent, and wanted o say something about a nipple of the twelve-teats goddess of Summer Isles again, the only thing worth of such odes. But Qartheen already opened the lid of the chest. And when Oberyn peered inside and spotted a round object as big as a head settled on velvet pads, he didn't see just treasure which only the last few people in the world could vaunt with. He saw much more. Something due to what the chest remained empty several hours later.

"Really?"  
She nodded. She knew it was dangerous to talk about that. Whoever could want to steal it. But something convinced her to trust the prince.  
"It has a very dark colour. It seems almost black, but it's not, more like... very dark blue or purple. And it has golden strings. And do you know, what is the strangest thing?"  
Rhaegar shook his head. But there was a clear image of an egg and especially dragon sleeping in it, which should have the same unusual colour, in front of his eyes.  
"Sometimes when I warm it up... it seems like the golden strings... shine. Like it..." is pulsing, she wanted to say. Such feeling she used to have. Sometimes she just wanted to lay it to the fire or on the hot coals and hold and watch it once it was not too hot to burn her skin.  
It surely shone. It surely was not just a stone. And she would swear that she was feeling something pulsate in such moments. Maybe it was just a dream, just illusion she wanted to have, but maybe it also was a drop of Old Valyrian blood from her lysene mother and the princess Daenerys of old. Blood that could connect her to the creature inside, real or long dead. But she knew nothing more could ever happen.

"But that is nonsense, of course."  
"I read, that dragons can survive decades in eggs," Rhaegar responded immediately once he understood, what did she try to suggest. And he didn't question it. If Balerion could live more than two centuries, why wouldn't a foetus last hidden in the eggshell?  
"Even so, no one knows how to hatch a dragon anymore. And you just told me what happened during the last attempt."  
"That's why I tried to find as much knowledge as possible. I thought I am the last dragon. The prince that old texts mention. But now I am sure it's Aegon. And we never will be whole without real dragons."  
"Old texts? You are saying my little cousin is... part of some prophecy?"  
She had never heard about some prince in old texts. She knew stories about legendary heroes, princess Nymeria, who arrived 700 years ago to Dorne and several legends from the far Essos, but no Targaryen princes.  
"Yes. And if I could raise a living dragon... no one would deny it."  
"So you didn't give up your effort yet? You are still looking for information?"  
"You said you would like to make it possible. Wouldn't you be thrilled, if I'd find some recipe?"

Jaenna stepped down the dais, returned to the one of the bigger skulls and slowly circled it.  
"I don't know. Aegon may be," she stood in the center of the room and looked toward the throne, where Rhaegar remained with his red cloak and silver hair braided into short simply braid to not falling in his face. Then she turned and alone headed for the door.  
"But you don't find it in old texts or on the streets."

Then she returned to the chambers, where she should sleep for the next few days. She had to admit, that this parts of the keep were almost abandoned, but she couldn't wonder. As the royal family kin, brother and niece of the crown prince's wife and uncle and cousin of the youngest prince who was in the middle of all current affairs, they got the best chambers. The rest of lords and ladies arriving to celebrate Aegon's birth had to settle for different parts of the Red Keep or various establishments in the city.

Although Jaenna didn't doubt, that Oberyn would be happy with an inn next to a brothel (if there wasn't some establishment offering accommodation and whores at once) would it be their case too, and she would probably also not despise a rented room. Not that company of naked women or men selling themselves lured her, she had always felt more traditional and wanted to share a bed only with someone who would be willing and who would like her. But she already made long journeys with her father - once she sailed to the Oldtown and once he took her on the round of dornish bannermen in the name of uncle Doran. And they didn't come to the open-armed castle every day during both occasions.

But she didn't compline. Despite her fighting skills and her experiences with sleeping in inns and on ships, she definitely welcomed comfortable chambers and big, soft bed. She also thrust herself in it as soon as she undressed and sent away all royal maids who attempted to convince her to bath and ask what would she like for dinner. She just let them put the tray of food on the table and closed her eyes.

She missed Water Gardens, where she could jump naked into the pool after nightfall and enjoy it alone because children would be hushed to the bed by parents or tutors with the sun. Then she would sit on the edge of the fountain wrapped just in her satin robe and peel a blood orange, while the only one who might see her would be Areo Hotah, the captain of her uncle's guards. And he would just give her his typical reproving glance, she would make nothing out of it, smile on him, he would bow and let her go back to the castle. Or one of his men would report her romp and the typical reproving glance would await her the next day. But here she could just stare at the ceiling, so she rather stared nowhere.

She had to still think about the short walk with the prince, anyway. How he talked passionately about dragons, how he pictured her the fate of all monsters preceding the huge skulls in the Throne room, how his eyes were shining, when she told him about her egg.

In that moment, she sat vigorously, jumped out of the bed and quickly pulled out a wooden chest hidden under.  
It was not the same as the trader's one. This one was ironwood, hard dark wood from the North, and its lock had the shape of rhoynar sun with the golden spear as the key, thus Martell's sigil.  
She immediately unlocked it and took out a big scaly egg. It was exactly that colour, which she described to Rhaegar. It was dark. As dark as night. But just like the night, it couldn't be clearly determined, whether it's dark blue, purple or black. Although it seemed purple to her and just when the light reflected from it, it changed the colour strangely more to black. Same as her eyes.

It was warm enough to not kindle the fire, fireplace in her chamber didn't show signs of recent use and if she would request wood, it would draw unnecessary attention, so she couldn't heat it up as usual. She couldn't risk anything. It was already dangerous enough to bring the egg with her, but she couldn't let it at home. She just couldn't part with it. So she took it into her arms and lay back on the bed at least. Now it didn't radiate as it used to at home, but she still had the insistent feeling, that something was pulsing inside and drawing her. She felt the golden strings brightening up and fading and something living inside. But when she tried to focus on her human senses and see or find those changes for real, she couldn't. The only thing responding was her intuition.

She still didn't know what to think about this feelings. Would she found its hatching amazing? Of course. But did she believe, that anyone could ever master it? Probably not. Therefore, Rhaegar's faith surprised her. He firmly believed he could find out. Was he foolish? Or fool?

Anyway, she couldn't deny, that he was charming. She had no idea whether her aunt felt in love after their wedding, but she believed it possible. He was not like other lords, who derived the right on loyalty and devotion of their wives from the fact that they were lords. He was charming. Handsome, pleasing, educated, he could play and sing instead of just fighting and he really talked with woman. Or was it only with her? Why was he with her and told her hundreds of years old stories about dragons while he should sit beside his son and infirm wife? The Grand Maester warned Elia after Rhaenys birth, that she is too weak and sickly for children, but she gave Rhaegar a next one despite the risk. Should he not be sitting by her bed, thank her and display his love?

She put the egg on her abdomen. Its weight weirdly comforted her and that was something what she needed badly. Did his wife matter nothing to him? Everyone was saying how chivalrous he was and every maid could succumb to his charm, she didn't doubt that. Was he possibly trying to charm her? Why? She didn't understand and wasn't so sure about this silver prince anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Arianna Le Fay – about fire – I know that's a common mistake and many people believe it (due to the show), but no one is immune to fire. Even GRRM told it. Daenerys made a huge, unique magic event, she even had a living human sacrifice, maybe it was something that can not be done again. And she didn't die just due to the magic, not her skin or body attributes, she has no special ones. Otherwise, Targaryens like heat, hot water and are fascinated by fire, but they burn. Actually, many Targaryens burned (Aegon V, prince Duncan, prince Aerion, princess Rhaenys Velaryon née Targaryen fell of her dragon and was totally burned by dragonflame, king Aegon II had very serious burns...) and their funeral is traditionally a cremation. So no, Jaenna is not immune to fire. No one is. Even Targaryens. Unless they are asbestos :)_**

 _ **And for all of you - what are you thinking about s06e01 and Dorne? That's really fu*ked up! You can count, that I will NOT use any of these aspect of Dorne. That's just wrong. Doran is not suppose to be such idiot who really does nothing. And Ellaria? Waste of words.**_

* * *

When she woke up the next day, she finally allowed the servants to prepare a bath and thoroughly scrubbed herself. It was refreshing because she explicitly forbade them to bring hot water, just lukewarm. She had never minded hot, but she wanted to make up for the dornish pools at least a little.  
Then she dressed her riding-breeches, light sand yellow dress-like tunic, and orange cloak, maybe for better moving, maybe for irritation of local stiff ladies, and headed to the courtyard. She, fortunately, remembered the way Rhaegar described yesterday, so she stepped out at a brisk pace.

The morning was pleasant. The midday heat didn't show up yet, a gentle breeze was blowing and ruffled her loose hair with only two decoratively braided strands, the courtyard was full of people, and she heard crashing weapons from one side.  
She didn't worry it's a fight or attack. She immediately thought that could be a practice of pages, squires or knights of the Kingsguard or friendly match between present lords.

But when she run to one of the balconies around, she found no friendly match. Definitely not between these two participants. Her father stood on one side of a little circle of onlookers with a sword, unusual weapon for him, but nothing he couldn't handle, and beckoned with a smirk on his face to his opponent, who was lying on the ground and tried to stand up. And when he managed it, Jaenna noticed, it was lord Connington. The man who welcomed them yesterday in the name of the King as his Hand.

"If all men from Crownlands are fighting like you, I am not surprised you couldn't defeat Dorne until it decided to take Targaryens to bed," she heard her father say.  
"I come from Stormlands. And they-"  
"They have Robert Baratheon, raging bull, pardon me, stag, and... someone else? No, I had not heard about someone else capable of wielding at least a hammer."  
Lord Connington immediately threw himself at Oberyn after hearing such words. But his attacks, precisely as expected, were driven more by rage and humiliation, so he didn't have the slightest chance for victory. Moreover, he really wasn't as good warrior as his dornish rival. He, again, ended up on the ground with the tip of Oberyn's sword at his throat.  
"Dead."

Jaenna laughed aloud. She thought she was alone, so she didn't hide her amusement.  
"Prince Oberyn is certainly capable. And not only with his notorious spear."  
Jeanna winced after that and turned around.  
"Did you decide to startle me for my whole visit, my prince?"  
"I startled you? I apologize for that," he said but smiled.  
"You are right. My father is famous for spear fight. But it's not all he can do. You would be surprised. And the lord Hand on the other hand... is not so good, it seems. He allows his rival to enrage him and then he doesn't think. His attacks are too heavy. Too predictable. He does not think about some guile or pretending. He still has a lot of sword practicing ahead till he will be capable of defeating my father. And even then just because father will be too old."  
"You know your way in the fight?"  
"I told you I am no common lady and my father taught me. Where do you think my conviction about the fight, death, and heroism came from?"  
"So you are wielding a sword?"  
"I was taught. But bow and arrow suit me best. Moreover, dornish bows are difficult to beat, only bows made of black wood from Summer Isles are better, but I still can't get one. The islanders don't want to sell them," she returned his smile, let go of the railing and headed back to the stairs to the courtyard.  
"I think escaping from the conversation suits you even more."  
"Escaping? I'm not running away, your grace."  
"Aren't you?"  
"Father has won, I have to congratulate him. The defeat of the Hand doesn't happen every day."  
"And what about yesterday? You had to congratulate someone too?"

Jaenna looked in his eyes, but they expressed no contempt or disgust and that added her some courage.  
"Actually, I hoped I will be congratulating you."  
"What for?" he was really confused in that moment.  
"For visiting your lady wife and your son, spending the rest of the evening with them and caring about them. Do you know, that Elia is still too weak to leave her bed?"  
"Of course. They are my family, of course, I know."  
"And that Aegon's eyes turned bright purple? Not murky as some, not almost too dark to recognize as mine, but bright, clear purple?"

Rhaegar first took a breath to bring uncertain reply, but something halted him.  
"You have purple eyes?"  
"It's hardly noticeable, but yes, mostly they seem purple to me. Come one, don't be so surprised, my prince, I am from Dorne. There are houses for which they are significant and some Targaryens are even among my ancestors. But first of all, my mother came from Lys."  
"Oh. I've never noticed."  
"They seem black in the castle's gloom. And now you see me in the direct light for the first time," she explained.  
"Not for the first time."  
"My... then... you barely had the time to look me in the eyes, we rode fast. And... I would never think, that you are no bard but prince," she stammered a little at the memory of her arrival and silly question whether they could bring that bard in the palace. And then she realized, that she originally wanted to scold him and not to feel embarrassed as he turned it against her.  
"I was there as a bard."  
"Sure. Just with the Kingsguard nearby, right? But I really think you should go to Elia and show her a little... whatever is in your marriage."  
"Whatever? Usually, people would probably say love."  
Jaenna smiled, but less cheerful.  
"Yes, my aunt deserves love. But I know your marriage was arranged and I doubt there could be found real love in such affair."  
"That must bring sorrow to you."  
"Why? I will marry only someone, whom I will really want. That is the advantage of the offspring of second son and Red Viper of Dorne. I don't have to worry about securing our kingdom. And now, if you'll excuse me, I really go to congratulate my father and find out whether is he going to humiliate any more lords in King's services," she didn't let him react and left.

He did not answer, even if she was expecting that. She was quite surprised, that he didn't burst out and let her punish. She lectured him what he should do and accused him of not loving his lady wife. From the dragon, she would probably expect flames. But Rhaegar, even if it might touch him and knock his ego, showed nothing. He just turned her words against her, again, and accidentally ran on the topic what gave her no worry. She'd never thought about her own wedding. And she knew her father would not force her. If they would find a proper suitor, she married him. If not... there perhaps was not such possibility. She was sure she would find someone.

In fact, there were many attractive men around her. The future lord Uller, trueborn brother of beautiful Ellaria Sand, the woman from whom her father couldn't take his eyes and sometimes hands off, winked at her whenever he was around and she would give him a chance would he be not known for drinking everything flowing. Or Robert Baratheon, great company to the tavern or fight and after their meeting more common visitor of the coastline of the Sea of Dorne. Just he was paying too much attention to whores and was betrothed to some northern girl about whom he constantly sang praises. And she had to admit, that even Jaime Lannister, son of the Old Lion and former Hand of the King, young man about her age, was very handsome when she met him soon after her arrival. But his white cloak and watches at the royal chambers forbade him any courtship and marriage. But she was sure she'd find someone without these flaws, even if it shouldn't be a great lord. Maybe one day she could beg her father to take her to the Free Cities and meet some strapping merchant. Or nobleman to fell madly in love with as her parents. Or sellsword worthy of passionate romance and bit of fun.

She couldn't imagine getting someone chosen for her, marrying him, sharing a bed with him, birthing his children and then just sitting behind and doing what he says as it was happening in many places in Westeros. Or rather all places except Dorne. Although some men considered woman their property even there, but she did not care about them. Martells never did. And she was Martell. Jaenna Nymeros Martell. She wasn't a property. She was a competitor. She didn't fear stupid men with heads too high. She didn't fear challenges. And maybe she didn't fear even dragon.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Who doesn't know, Melyngar, the name I used in this chapter, is from a great series „Prydain Chronicles" by Lloyd Alexander. Originally, it's a mare of prince Gwydion and I love this name, so I borrowed it.**_

 _ **And thank you, I hope Jaenna will be an interesting character. I'm trying to make her more real, so she should have even negative attributes next to her fighting skills, beauty, confidence and love for freedom. Like maybe too high opinion about herself or that she's totally used to be seen like one of the most important and beloved people in kingdom – which is not true in King's Landing, where she is just another highborn subject, and she has to deal with it. I hope I can make her personality little bit like Jaime (not completely, of course) – I am great, I can do anything and if I have serious trouble, I just say my father (uncle). And when her world crashes down, her father is suddenly not enough.**_

 ** _So feel free to comment, ask and criticize, I would love to answer in the next chapter._**

* * *

Jaenna spent most of her day by walking in the gardens of the Red Keep, the only place that seemed really beautiful and relatively quiet to her. Of course, she knew that all gardeners and other servants working between bushes and flowers were watching her and, as her father said, there were probably King's, master's of whisperers or whoever else's spies among them, but otherwise, it was a peaceful and nice place to spend her time.  
Then she ate a simple luncheon in her chambers and set out to explore the castle itself.

She didn't know whether it's comfortable or not. It looked completely different from Sunspear and Water Gardens in Dorne. She knew it was the result of the effect of her ancient ancestor, princess Nymeria, that Martell's castles looked more like in Essos and she liked it better. These walls seemed too confined despite their mightiness, these corridors too complex despite their considerable space, everything too full of people and whispers and lacks of privacy.  
She, as probably everyone, had heard the story about king Maegor I who built the Red Keep hundreds of years ago and let construct a complex network of tunnels mouthing into the different places in the castle and city beneath it, and she was sure, that whether servants or the King, it's being used in the times of Aerys II.

But even if no tunnels and hidden passages were here, this place would not give her a good feeling. When she stood on the balcony towards the city, she could smell garbage and shit mixing with sea salt floating above everything and never getting away because all people seeking happiness and wealth were coming here, but most of them ended up in slums like the Flea Bottom where nothing disgusting was too disgusting. And when she stood on the balcony towards the courtyard, she could see servants in haste and almost hear slanders and gossips seeping through every corner. At least, her chambers offered a view of the sea, but with the legions of ships and traders, thus not something she loved at home, it was hard to find some place to rest.

Perhaps just the gardens were really nice and comforting. Completely different from the castle, where she barely could stay. So she decided not to stay any longer, she had enough. The air and freedom, that was what she missed so much. Therefore, she turned and chose a corridor that would, hopefully, lead her back to the main arcade again, but suddenly, someone sprinted against her and almost bumped into her.

"What are you doing here?" a silver-haired child stumbled and looked at her. She'd never been tall, but the boy couldn't celebrate more than eight name days, so there was finally someone to look down on instead of craning her neck.  
"I wanted to go out," she answered truthfully. And even if she thought it would be the younger prince, she just shrugged and didn't try to add some courtesy, like would she do if he was Rhaegar. He was just a child and she a woman grown.  
"You are that dornish princess?" the boy asked and eyed her carefully. She surely didn't look like any lady from King's Landing and even didn't try to. She wore another sleeveless dress and firm boots shining trough. The brocade from head to toes just wasn't her style. When she watched ladies in the court straggling here and there in their heavy dresses intricately tied around their bodies and decorated with other fabrics, she taught that she would probably stumble over her own feet and ended up like a big caterpillar before the transformation into a butterfly. And she was no caterpillar.  
She was a spear.  
A viper. Nimble, swift, deadly.

"Princess Jaenna Martell. You surely are prince Viserys," she nodded and assured herself that she was right.  
"You shall call me my prince. I am prince Viserys, so I am your prince."  
Now she was looking at him more surprised and speechless. He surely knew where he belonged for a mere child and wasn't afraid to show it. He was probably spoiled as a younger child and maybe someone wanted to make up for him that his brother would inherit the crown.  
"Of course, you are. You are the brother of Rhaegar who will be king one day and brother-in-law of my aunt who will be his queen, so you are the prince. And I am the princess, so if I shall call you my prince, you shall call me my princess," she tried to goad him, not with a bad intention, and bring down his conceit enough to not want to hit him. She hated swanking. Of course, she understood she had to pay respect to the royal family, especially this one, and she wanted to. After all, her aunt belonged among them and she loved her. But a small child, who annoyed her just because he could annoy everybody around him and who didn't earn any real respect, needed to know even his other place than a court in her mind. He should have no right to test and offend her.  
"That is not fair. You are no real princess, they shouldn't call you princess. Would I be a king, I would change it. You should be just a lady."  
"I am deeply sorry you don't like it, my prince. But such are dornish customs and we won't let anyone change it,"she retorted grumpily. She had never felt so humiliated even with her sisters in the most annoying moments or even when younger Obara progressed way faster in their training and could get her on her back just with her spear or sometimes bare hands. Or when she said some really fitting remark, that used to be worse than a declaration of war between them. But Obara was her sister, no dragon brat. So anger started to boil in her.  
But Viserys still looked at her with the same willful expression.  
"If sister will be born to me, my father burns Elia anyway. And Dorne, too," he retorted in the same tone and walked around her away with a victorious feeling.

Jaenna just rolled her eyes with disbelief and shook her head. If some brat in her home said this, she would just slap him. And his parents probably for the second time. Not necessarily because he didn't behave like a proper nobleman, but because this rude insult. But here she had to clench her fists and resist her desire, because if she would hit Viserys, his father would have her ripped into pieces. But still, in a small place of her sense which she mostly didn't want to listen, she understood his words. It was a wonder that Rhaegar had such a calm and melancholy temper, considering where were they living, who was raising them and what was surrounding them.  
But then she decided to forget the unpleasant conversation with the princeling and find her way out of the castle after all while she tried to full her head with plans for the rest of their visit. Therefore, she didn't notice the undulating of a curtain in a near niche, meaning someone opened a door behind it.

She just let her legs carry her and soon ended up in between trees and bushes along the paths formed of crushed stones. Most of the bushes were roses but some of them just green and planted like small labyrinths. Next she saw tulips growing on one crossroad around a fountain and two big sunflowers standing like gates to each direction. She could forget the facade of the city transforming into stink here and maybe enjoy the rest of her very boring day. And when she reached a pavilion ingrown with the bougainvillea, she found her father sitting there.  
He sat in a wicker chair with pillows, held a quill in his hand and bent over some parchment. Completely concentrated and probably ignoring all chirping and wind around.

"It's surprising. I thought you will be somewhere in the city," she said behind his ear after she silently scuttled to him, but she missed the effect.  
Oberyn didn't get a fright and maybe he already knew about her. Sometimes it seemed, that he was on guard even in his sleep.  
"I am writing letters. I found these gardens an ideal place for it."  
"Are you reminding to the girls not to break Dorne into pieces until your return?" Jaenna grinned. Not that her half-sisters were uncontrollable, but they could be really wild. Maybe bastards really were wilder, more passionate and more dangerous because they were born from lust... or it was just because their mothers were a prostitute and an exotic woman from another continent. Moreover, Tyene's mother used to be septa and Tyene also seemed most composed and thoughtful.  
"That as well. And one for Ellaria."  
"The Sand from Hellholt? Who always winks on you?"  
"Her brother once asked me whether are you still maiden and whether you were betrothed while utterly drunk, precisely this one."  
"Don't remind me of him. He is bearable till midday. But once he drinks..." she shook her head and let rest of the sentence untold. The drunk was never a safe choice and if she didn't have to, she definitely didn't intend to choose him.  
"But he has a stunning sister. Maybe it is because she is his only by half," Oberyn smiled and continued to write. "Shall I add a greeting from you?"  
"I guess. I do not enjoy writing letters," the young princess shrugged and took one berry of the red wine from the tray laying on the table.

"Except letters to the Stormlands. Or the Vale," Oberyn broached with a grin.  
"That's not true. I just answer when Robert asks whether am I on the coast. When he's planning another journey. And it's not often, sice his parents died. I saw him... maybe ten months ago. He's rather hiding in mountains with that Northerner of his sewn up in furs and raves about Lyanna."  
"I heard of that. Apparently, they are planning marriage of her brother with Tullys, too."  
"Since when are you interested in matters of courts in the Seven Kingdoms?" Jaenna raised her eyebrows inquiringly. As far as she knew, her father had never expressed interest in marriage. He was always saying, that marriage with her mother was enough for his whole life and he doesn't see a reason why to waste money and make some lady unhappy for life while he could make happy for a few moments half of the women in the kingdom.  
"Since marriage proposals for dornish princess are coming and since Doran kept saying, that you should seriously choose someone from Dorne. Then I keep track of unmarried lordlings from different parts of the realm."  
"Uncle wants to marry me off?!" Jaenna jumped out of her chair where she sat a while ago. That couldn't be true, they had never forced her to anything, she was not the heir, she was not the important person, she didn't matter yet!

"No worry. He won't force you. But he understands that you have to marry one day. I won't be a ruling prince, so you won't inherit enough to pick suitors till your death. And he thinks, and I quite agree, that some dornish lord would be the best choice for you. The more north you go, the worse barbarians you find."  
"Oh... let me guess. My friendship with Robert worries him. He is afraid that I can intervene in a longtime hate between Dorne and Stormlands and when Robert marry Lyanna, he could make me marry that Stark to stay on his hand. He certainly doesn't have to worry about this. I like to hunt and ride and Robert too. We are friends in arms, nothing more. Well... I admit, he would welcome me in his bed because he indulges every woman he meets, but he knows he would be very sorry. Maybe I am sorrier for this Lyanna of his," she calmed again, when she found out, that no courtship would take a place.  
"Doran is not afraid of Stormlands and Robert is your concern. You are no stupid lady locked in her chambers until some lord whom she'd never seen take her away. You know how to take care of yourself. But I hope, that even if you clown around at home, whether with Baratheon or not, you are playing a proper lady here."  
"Sure. It's boring here, anyway. The only interesting things here are probably the skulls in the Throne room. What Rhaegar showed me."

"I saw you in the courtyard this morning," Oberyn suddenly noted, without lifting his head from his letter, but glanced sideways at his daughter.  
"We were watching your fight. And we met at random," Jaenna quickly plucked another berry of wine. The last thing she wanted was to admit to her father how she scolded the prince for his behavior toward Elia.  
"You talked too long for random meeting. It seems like you have a lot of common topics."  
"Actually... he is really interested in dragons. Like me. He knows all kinds of things about them and tries to find a way to bring them back. That caught me, you know that even if I know it's not possible, I yearn for it since you brought me Melyngar."  
"Melyngar?" Oberyn asked. As far as he remembered, he'd never brought an animal to her and she had only horses. And no horse of her was called Melyngar.  
"The egg."  
"You named it?"  
"I... it'll never be a dragon, but it's in there. And it is said, that they can survive a very long time in the eggshell, so if it's still alive, it's Melyngar. I found this name in some book and I like it. Maybe it's more for a horse, but it doesn't matter. Rhaenys named her cat Balerion, she told me, when we arrived, and a cat doesn't look like a dragon in the least."  
"You don't have to explain to me. It's your egg. You are entitled to have it due to your blood. Just be careful. No one missed our arrival with a strange chest, without a doubt. And maybe some spies already know about it. I wouldn't be surprised if Varys knew. Master of Whisperers," he added when Jaenna frowned because she didn't know that name.  
"I know. I mind it. It is very important for me."

"Good. So go and enjoy the rest of your day. Maybe you finally find something interesting. I am sure, there are several lads willing to let defeat themselves in the archery," Oberyn finally looked up. "And we will dine with Elia and her royal family on the morrow. So be prepared."  
"But you said it would not be wise for the King to-"  
Oberyn stopped Jaenna. He didn't want Aerys to pay them attention, but he clearly couldn't say it aloud. Surely, it would be brought to his ears.  
"Elia, the prince and little princess. The King has certainly more important matters to handle."  
"Oh... I understand. Maybe I come to find some partner for challenge. Say hello to girls and Obara not to train with her whip on Tyene."

Then the princess got up and headed for one of the many gardens aisles. A talk with her father was always calming for her. They switched serious and nonserious topics and she could clean her head because she felt like they talked about everything, but actually it was the opposite - they talked almost about nothing. But above all, he'd never feared to talk with her openly or joke with her like she even wasn't his daughter. Or at least, she thought that lords from other kingdoms didn't talk with their children this way. The better relationship they had. She didn't have to be afraid of opening up and not telling and being independent at the same time. He forced her neither to one nor the other, but when she came, mostly, he was there for her. And she got used to be taunted about Robert Baratheon long time ago.

Therefore, the weird feeling after Viserys' words and all nervousness about the royal family finally faded thanks to this short meeting. She would meet her aunt the next day again, what she didn't consider unpleasant, and nobody else was apparently interested in her. And if her father felt safe here and sent her to find some fun, there surely was no reason to succumb to the uneasy feeling of the city full of lies and hypocrisy.

All she could fear for was in her privacy, that she always held as a separate world beyond the wall where no one could enter without her permission. Whenever she was in society, whenever she rode, trained or discussed. Only when she found herself alone in her chamber, she moved into another place shrouded in mystery. Place of deep eyes, valyrian blood, and dragon's eggs, that was always related with her home in Dorne in her mind.

There also were dragons in here, true dragons, with a pure blood, but not hers. She considered herself different dragon. Dragon hidden in viper's skin kissed by the sun. And she shouldn't let the royal ones cause her worry.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Hi, here we have another chapter, the last written one. I have a lot of ideas, I have a lot of notes, but I also have a State Final Exams for my master degree in law on my doors and I would probably not write the next chapter in next few days. But you were asking about Jaime, so at least, he's here:)**_

 _ **And one more thing – the mentioned Selenna Dalt is completely made out. There is House Dalt, landed knights of Lemonwood, but I have no idea who are they or whether there is any woman among them.**_

* * *

Jaenna didn't bring her dornish bow, so she had to try to find the armory at first and find another one, average but decently made. She hoped to borrow some, so she returned one of the arcades around the keep and to the courtyard and sought some soldiers. She assumed, that where are soldiers, there could be barracks. And where are barracks, there usually is an armory.

But the only soldiers she saw were standing on the walls and held a guard, so she helplessly looked around until she noticed a flash of white. Knight of the Kingsguard just rushed from the opposite site, didn't look left or right and marched with something looking like a wooden training sword for children. But because he had his own sword by his side and Jaenna really doubted, that the Kingsguard practiced with sticks, maybe he was carrying it away after pages training. So she silently sneaked behind him and intended to follow him.

It was clear who it was even from the back. Although she knew almost no one from the famous seven of the King's knights, only her grand-uncle Lewyn, the spate of his golden hair and youthful brisk walking revealed Jaime Lannister. And to her delight, he didn't disappoint her, because he missed a gate from where a loud argument of several male voices wafted, probably a barrack, and opened a forged gate of the smaller building next to it. And when she peeked inside, she saw a flood of steel. She was in the right place.

Jaime just stored the training sword to the rack with other wooden weapons, but he noticed something overshadowing the sun-rays flowing through the open gate wings. Therefore, he turned and didn't have to wink too long to find out who was standing there.  
"Princess?"

So her intent to inconspicuously borrow a bow fell.  
"Ser Jaime," but she wasn't discouraged, put a smile and stepped to him. He was tall, much taller than her, but their age still matched, so she didn't feel nervous. In fact, she decided to enjoy, that he was the one who stood here and not some old morose master-at-arms. Once she was accustomed to her surroundings, she wasn't such blushing maiden as she was her first day here anymore.  
"Are you lost?" he asked honestly because he couldn't think about anything that could she need in the armory.  
"Just the opposite. I found what I wanted."  
"What could it be?" he smiled in return.  
"Ser Jaime, don't you think such suggestion doesn't sound proper?" she already was close enough to not to be dazzled by the sun and could see his face more clearly. He was watching her casually and his lips hinted amusement and ease, exactly what was expected from the Kingsguard. Nothing should surprise them. However, she saw a dash of uncertainty in his green eyes. He wasn't so jovial as he pretended. He was too young to give her implications above the court manners back. Nothing like Rhaegar who would be not baffled, as she learned already. More like unaccustomed to play.

"I am interested in weapons, don't worry. The only sword I want to find here is made of steel, not gold. Although I would prefer a bow, in fact."  
"To what do you need a bow?" he asked and looked like he was glad for the change of the topic. Pity, she thought. She didn't like to be for a coquette, but when she saw someone inexperienced or someone who didn't feel good in the plays with meanings in front of her, she tried. A proper lady should never act like that according to her septa, but this was usually the best way to get what she wanted and enjoy it according to Selenna Dalt, sister of knights from Lemonwood. She used to tell her that when little Jaenna ran around Water Gardens and she grew up from her children's shoes and looked for some suitor. And when Jaenna started to understand it, she had to admire Selenna's seductive looks and flirting with one of their officers.  
Several years have passed, but Jaenna vividly remembered it. And found out, that Selenna's words were hiding more of truth than septa's preaching.

"To archery, of course. I was hoping that I could borrow one? I left my bow in Dorne and I don't want to be out of the practice."  
"You? An archer?" Jaime genuinely wondered. He'd never for the entire time at court seen woman with any weapon in the Red Keep. Perhaps except a needle or table knife. He had heard rumors about Dorne and freedom of the local people, especially women, but never paid attention to it. Therefore, he was surprised, that the girl in front of him, the little princess with blown hair, asked a bow. But when he looked at her more closely, he noted, that she actually didn't look like such a little princess. She wore a breeches, light dress almost transparent around her legs, not hiding her virtues, and a thin coat. Her height just evidently bluffed and hid a woman a little. And if she could bluff with that, her innocent looks, which he noticed upon her arrival, was probably hiding other talents.

"Are you surprised? Has your sister never learned to shoot a bow?" she remembered quickly, that he had a sister. Twin. She had heard of them when their dwarf brother was born. As the whole kingdom.  
"Cersei? I think, that if she could, she would jump on it. But our father would not allow."  
"And what about you?" she looked at him and winked.  
"Is it a challenge?"  
"If you lend me the bow, let it be a challenge."  
"You have to find ser Willem Darry. He is master-at-arms, he is in charge. I can't just give our weapons."  
"You are afraid! I understand, why did you carry a wooden sword," she smirked, and once Jaime unknowingly strengthened and tensed his shoulders, she knew that she had him where she wanted.  
"Prince Viserys was practicing with it. I would not be afraid of you even with chained hands," he stated unwaveringly, crossed the room, picked up a quiver and removed two bows from the wall.

Oddly enough, it was a pleasant afternoon. She moved with Jaime to the shadowed part of the courtyard, where prepared targets stood. Then she removed her cloak what would hinder in her smooth motion, hefted the borrowed bow and when she tried to stretch it, she found it a pretty good weapon. So she didn't let it from her hand since then.  
They took turns in shooting from different distances, competed in who could better hit which area and Jaime came with a dummy on Jaenna's insistence and they tried to shoot it while the other put it into motion. It wasn't the usual tool for archery, but they couldn't find any better moving target. And they had a lot of fun. Or at least her. Jaime's aim was good, he never missed the static target and gave the dummy a hard time, but he couldn't beat Jaenna.

The rattling of the bow strings also attracted several soldiers soon. They watched and alternately encouraged them, although she noticed that their cheering was meant more for her, and then she enjoyed her triumph when the last arrow pierced the dummy's head.

"That is fourteen shots above your score, good ser," she laughed, let the bow down and faced Jaime, who sneered, but not happily. He rather grumpily measured the audience and then gave Jaenna the most dismissive look he could to save his face. But in the end, he decided to honor the manners.  
"You had to be lucky. Congratulations. Although, I would undoubtedly beat you with the sword."  
Shouts provoking them to seize swords suddenly sounded.  
"Perhaps. I heard about your merits in the Kingswood. And I definitely hope, that our King is not guarded by someone whom even a little girl beats in another discipline," she settled him down again and soldiers around laughed.

Jaime, already without his grin, picked up the quiver from the ground. He didn't doubt, that the whole castle would know how the dornish princess beat him in archery and mocked his martial arts till dusk. Especially, when so many eyes eager to humble the Old Lion from the Rock saw it. Such idea would please no one. But Jaenna didn't want to part with him on bad terms.  
"But I have no doubt, that you wield your sword skilfully. That should be the most important skill for the knight. And you were shooting good. Better than many other men, whom I saw. Thank you for this little practice," she smiled and looked down because she knew that this caused a feeling of superiority in men. Selenna told her even that. And it worked because she felt his relief.  
"But it starts getting late. I shall depart."

Then she turned on her heel, let the young knight deal with the cleaning of the arrows and walked through the circle of onlookers. Most of the men bowed, as befitted the daughter of the great noble house, and she dismissed them out of her head. She wasn't used to such attention, but she could ignore someone watching her training. And after several hunts with Robert, she easily learned let all men's shouting one ear in and out the other.  
Moreover, she was happy. The training always inflamed her and charged her with energy, unless it was too exhausting, and definitely, she couldn't lay calmly and read or sit down to dinner.

But she surely sensed that she needed at least to comb her hair, if not change because her hair fluttered around her head as the sweaty sun and clouds and wind took turns above them. She planned to visit the library before the dinner and she could easily meet someone. And even if she liked to tease others with her dresses, she didn't want to look like a scarecrow.  
Therefore, she hurried through corridors and passages, her coat in one hand, the second kept pulling her hair from her forehead, and then she found herself at the foot of the Maidenvault.

Just a few short staircases and she would be safe behind her doors, so she went through the gate with crafted gate wings wild open. She immediately felt the difference between the warm courtyard and cold of the stone walls and briskly went ahead. She came to the first staircase with a narrow path for servants beside and almost stepped on the first stair, when someone dragged her aside.

She shot a glance on him in a flash and noticed, that it was one of the soldiers, who watched hers and Jaime's archery competition. Brown of hair, clean-shaven, dressed in a brown woolen tunic and untied tabard, taller than her and surely more muscular. And her heart missed a beat when he pushed her away from the stairs and slammed her back to the wall next to them.  
He was smiling. And drunk.  
But Jaenna didn't stop her sight on his face. She quickly peeked on his belt.

"I liked you wiping the Lannister's smugged look. And I like how you are not shy. I heard all dornish wenches are the same. Not shy. And they like it all the ways. And the best ones are the wildest. They say they can hold a wooden spear in one hand and in the other-" he yelled before he could tell what spear would he like her to hold in her other hand.

While he held her neck by one hand and touched the soft fabric of her dress by the other, she stared into his eyes with a terrified look. He smelled of wine. He had a glint of a predator in his eyes. But Jaenna wrenched his dagger with her own hand, to which he didn't pay any attention, grabbed his wrist by the other and stabbed him so badly, that she pinned him to the wall before he could notice anything. He had probably never seen some lady determined enough to attack. Or determined enough to think about it. So he let her fool him.

"In the other a knife, you meant, didn't you?"  
He didn't answer. They switched their places, the princess still clutched the dagger and hold the twisted and shocked man against the wall.  
"That looks painful. There is a lot of veins and bones in the wrist. I think you shall quickly seek some help. It's bleeding," she said with pretended concern, but with noticeable cold.

The soldier tried to push her hand and find some other weapon, but she kicked him to the place, that is not as protected as it should be without the armor. He just groaned again and slid down a little, so he looked like some bizarre pointer.  
"I am the princess. Shouldn't be you more polite? Where are your manners? I told you, you shall go and seek some help!"  
The soldier gritted his teeth and when his next attempt to get out didn't meet with success, he realized, what could she want from him.  
"Yes. May I leave, my princess?" he muttered and breathed out with relief when Jaenna pulled the dagger out.  
"Of course, ser. I think you should find the maester. You could bleed out. And thank you for your gift. I will look after it very well," she curtsied in front of his wide eyes, returned to the stairs with the dagger and ran up. Until the second mezzanine, then she stopped and when she assured, that no one was following her, leaned against the wall.

He scared her. She really didn't think when she grabbed his dagger and stabbed his wrist at all, it was an instinct. No one could touch her without her permission, whatever was his name or title. And when someone tried, she learned to strike. But he still scared her and caught her off guard. She would almost forget that men were men and that she had no protection in form of her father's and uncle's guards or customs due to which the blood of men in Dorne didn't drain from their brains to other parts of their bodies because of some barely uncovered ankle.

Well, not completely. They brought some men as their guard, but they were in the city because of their free time or in each end of the corridor between hers and Oberyn's chambers. Oberyn never liked the control and didn't need guards around him and Jaenna usually commanded them to let her be, because she hated to have someone on her heels all the time. She didn't see the need to be guarded inside the palace and wouldn't like any change of it. Her father would know everything about her then. But one part of her still trembled a little and whispered, that it would not happen with some swords behind her back.

But then she breathed in and climbed one more floor. She got rid of this man and she would be more careful from this day. She would watch her surroundings and when she would notice anything suspicious, she would take up arms and not ran some lonely place. Only then she would admit the need of protection. Until then, why to think about the worst?

Therefore, she calmed, put a smile and slowed down to not let two men on watch take suspicion. But then she silently cursed, when she saw one of them in front of her chamber. She was well aware of the blood drops on her dress, what the soldier so recklessly stained when he tried to save his hand. Or maybe life. She packed the dagger to her cloak and carried it like a package in her hands, but she couldn't hide her dress. And despite all her effort, eyes of the guard strayed right there.  
He opened his mouth to say something, bud Jaenna quickly decided.

"Ugly stains, aren't they? I am afraid, that it will not go away. But it was worth the broken nose of that squire. He didn't believe I am able to train with men," she warbled and hoped he would believe her and wouldn't chase up some squire with a broken nose in the city. And it probably worked.  
"Did you decide to build your reputation outside Dorne, my princess?" he asked.  
"Oh, the opposite. I decided to add to the reputation of Dorne," she answered because she knew, that every dornish based on the difference and wild reputation in the rest of Westeros, let him step aside and casually opened the door of her chamber. Then also casually crossed the threshold and closed, then she pounced inside and wanted to go straight to her bed, or to her treasure under it to really calm herself, as usual, but her look fell upon a big shadow in her chair by the window.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Hello, I'm back, so I wrote next chapter with princess Jaenna. It's slightly slow building, I know, but I'm just like that.**_

 _ **One of you suggested, that Jaenna should look more like her mother or mix of her mother and father, otherwise she has no point. But first, she HAS purple eyes and other non-physical resemblance with valyrian blood, second, Martell's gens are quite powerful, even some Targaryens with one Martell parent looked like dornish (Baelor, Rhaenys, Daeron, I really don't know what about children of princess Daenerys, sister of Daeron II, but I think, at least some of them looked dornish too – she married prince of Dorne) therefore Valyrians aren't resistant to other features, and third, I thought her look out very well and it's part of the plot. So it has a point.**_

 _ **And another one suggested, that Rhaegar wants Jaenna as his Lyanna. Well, nice idea! I don't plan to have Lyanna in this plot (maybe in last chapters because of other matters), so who knows? Maybe. In A Song of Ice And Fire you never just get what you want :)**_

* * *

Jaenna didn't jump with fright or surprise, although she was frightened and surprised. Instead, she clenched her fingers around the handle of her bloody dagger and let the cloak into which it was wrapped fall down. She was ready to jump after that unknown disturber and stab him right in his neck or whatever place he could carelessly offer but made only two steps aside to see his face for now.  
"I do not think it necessary to seize knives."

His head was round, corpulent and bald, his voice soft and like effeminate. Jaenna was sure she had never seen this man before, but then her eyes slid to the thing on his lap and growl forced to her throat. This time, she made few steps towards him with her dagger held to his chest. She, quite the contrary, had the feeling it to be very necessary.  
"Who are you and what are you doing here? And leave that egg be!"  
But the unknown didn't look worried. He didn't look at the dagger but right into her eyes lit by just a few candles. It started to getting dark outside, the light was faded even in the castle, so he had to light them.

"No worry, princess. I don't want to hurt you. I just simply could not resist and had to make sure, that you really brought a dragon's egg. And it is truly beautiful."  
"How do you know about it?" Jaenna carefully circled him, ready to attack. She barely dealt with one rapist and should have a thief in front of her? But thief would not be sitting in her chair and waiting for her, so what was that about? She didn't understand and didn't like him at all despite his smooth smile and perfume, what she smelled from him. After all, what kind of man would wrap himself in the perfume, if he didn't work in the brothel?  
"My little birds sang to me."  
"What birds? And how do they know?" she frowned. She didn't like when someone was playing with her and this dangerously resembled a mockery more and more.  
"Oh, I can not reveal that, can I? I would not be the master of whisperers if I told all my secrets."  
Master of whisperers? Her father warned her of him today. Varys was his name. Just as strange as he was. So he really already knew what did they take into the city.  
"But you do know mine."  
Varys bowed a little and carefully put her egg on the second empty chair. Jaenna immediately headed to it and shielded it with her own body.  
"It is only fair, if I tell you some of mine, then."

Princess eyed him suspiciously. Now, when she didn't have to fix her eyes on the egg in his hands with fear, she scanned him better. He wore a purple garment what local men certainly didn't use. It was no doublet or coat, but real robe with wide trousers and slippers underneath. Its sleeves were as wide as maester's habit and she didn't doubt, that he was hiding a lot of things in them too. But she urged him to continue.

"Very well, so perhaps... one of my unrevealed secrets is about certain lord-to-be Daeron Vaith and his proposal of a certain princess in Water Gardens several years ago."  
Jaenna scowled at first because that didn't sound interesting or important, took a breath, then blushed, when she realized who was he talking about, and wanted to protest that they were just children, but didn't say it. Something else occurred to her.

"That is not your secret at all. That is secret about me. And no one had ever found it, I just told my aunt and-" then she stopped. She would never believe Elia to give away such thing to the stranger like him. They really were just children. She was ten and Daeron two years older. They used to play in Water Gardens and she once told him, that he had to be the fourth leopard who ran from Vaith's sigil because she could never outrun him neither on land nor in water and envied him his ability to sneak so quietly, that he had always startled her. Perhaps because of that, he childishly fell for her and secretly, utterly reddened, asked for her hand behind a gardenia bush. He already knew he would be lord and probably thought it a good idea, but she responded equally childishly, called him stupid, he called her bigheaded and she slapped him. And when Elia asked what happened after the dinner that day, she confessed the whole story. Her aunt just laughed then and admonished her for the bad word and never brought it up. Moreover, Daeron was probably married by now or had at least his chambers full of more grateful paramours.  
But what if Elia told someone else, perhaps lady Ashara, her lady-in-waiting and closest confidante, and this lord of spies heard them and saved it in his treasury of gossips? Could it be possible?

"You are clever," he smiled as if he knew what was happening in her head and confirmed it.  
"And you are weird. I do not believe you."  
"I really have no intention to cause you harm. But you chose well, every lady should listen to her lord father. And princess to prince father as well. Oh yes, I know you spoke to him in the gardens today and he warned you," he explained, when she widened her eyes, partly surprised and partly angry.  
"Just as I know about your little archery competition with a certain knight of the Kingsguard and that unfortunate incident with certain Corbin. No titles, I am afraid."

She didn't understand how could it be possible, when he was sitting here and she escaped that Corbin right now, in fact, she didn't understand how did he manage to get inside without alarming the guards in the corridor - because they would never let him in, but it was not the most upsetting.  
"It was no unfortunate incident! He attacked me!"  
"Oh, I know. And I am glad you can defend yourself and you are all right. Even if he is probably not."  
"So that is the point? The King... wants to figure out why did one of his men almost bleed to death?" she made the only sensible conclusion.

"My dear, the King has entirely different concerns and that... man, if I may call so a creature daring to attack a woman because of his low instincts, was mere minor hog playing soldier for a few silver coins. No fear. I really just wanted to see that egg," he assured her and rose from the chair. She honestly hoped that he was leaving, because she didn't want to stay under his inquiring gaze full of palpably poisoned honey any longer.  
"If you try to take it from me or do anything-"  
"Dear princess... why would I need it? I am not Targaryen," he winked at her and chuckled so quietly and strangely, that he literally slammed her on the spot for a while. Then she briskly turned around, burst to the door and opened it to call the man who stood there, but found him on the opposite end near the stairs and it didn't seem that he wanted to march back. Therefore, she stormed to him and pushed him firmly into her chamber to escort her uninvited visit. But when they peeked inside, she surprisingly saw just an empty room.  
Yet, Jaenna walked in and checked every corner, even peeked under her bed, but Varys was really nowhere to find.

"I didn't know you are afraid of mice or spiders, princess," the guard said. He didn't see anything suspicious and took some vermin for her uninvited visitor.  
Jaenna just rolled her eyes, even though she already wasn't so sure, whether there really was someone or whether she stayed too long under the strong sun. After her enjoyable and steady afternoon full of what made her herself, she didn't know what to think again.  
"I am not afraid of mice! He had to disappear somewhere. And now, if it pleases you, I need to change and I will not do it in front of you," she slammed the door in his face so that he couldn't take her for a bigger fool, and looked around again in confusion.

He couldn't just jump out of the window or evaporate in a puff of smoke, so how did he disappear? Could it be really just a dream? But then she noticed the egg lying on the pillow on the second chair. It wasn't a dream. He really said all those strange things. And then he really disappeared through some secret path she didn't know.

She decided rather not to explore library today. She didn't like the idea of Varys access to her chambers as he pleased and his knowledge about her egg. And his words... that he didn't want to steal it because he is not Targaryen and so he wouldn't need it? She wasn't sure how to interpret it. It sounded so... scary for some reason. And she was disgusted by the image of spying little birds in gardens and maybe behind doors and who knew where else. Therefore, she held up the egg and lay on the bed with it. She completely forgot even her bedraggled hair and blood on her dress. Or what the guard could see, when the dagger and her bloody coat remained on the floor, and what could he tell to her father about such entrée.

"I won't let them steal you. You are mine. I don't care how are they trying to scare me. We dine with Elia tomorrow and leave right after the feast in Aegon's honor. Father will surely let me chose the next stop. Perhaps I can convince him to anchor on Tarth, I read about its beautiful pure waters in some travel journal. Yes, so it will be. We leave for Tarth after the feast, or maybe for Storm's End, if Robert shows here. Lord Robert in fact. He would surely take me there, he never minded staying in south longer than planned. The mountains of Vale won't crash without him. And then I will be with girls again and no one will break to you. No one will play with me," she reassured herself, while talking to the egg. It worked better than just thinking about it, she could really convince herself this way. Because it seemed to her, that it responded. That the glow of the golden veins showed it heard her and meant no need to worry for her. And she needed it. Those strange words still resonated in her head and their unclear meaning whirled through her mind.

"Why would I need it? I am not Targaryen."  
I am not Targaryen.  
Not Targaryen...  
Targaryen...

Flames flared up around her. High and massive, towered all around her like walls. But they were black, not orange, and didn't burn. They didn't hurt her, right opposite, she felt they were protecting her from something bigger and worse on the other side. But she also felt that she couldn't stay in them because they would start to burn in the end, but was afraid to pass them. She was afraid of that thing beyond and that they still sear her. And when she finally stepped out, she felt into the void.

She was falling and falling, tried to scream but couldn't. She even couldn't stretch her hands to soften her inevitable land. Instead, she was still breaking through the darkness and blurred streaks darted around.  
Only then she hit the hard cobbled floor but almost didn't realize it. She spotted a flash of silver hair and fair pale face that she didn't remember for years in front of her. At first, it looked like a ghost, then it brightened after a while.

"Mother!" she tried to cry, but her voice was caught in her throat. So she tried even harder to get up and run to her, only to realize that her legs didn't obey her. She didn't feel them, therefore, she didn't realize hitting the ground. And her mother's face, her beautiful purple eyes and kind smile, was melting away and away far beyond her reach until it twisted and screamed.  
"Mother!" she tried again and reached out her hand to her, but something huge emerged in front of her at that moment, jumped and stroke her back.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Hello with a new chapter. We watched princess Jaenna dealing with Varys who knows about her dragon's egg in the last one and her uncertainty again. So now she has to think out some solution. But because this is "song" of dragons, Rhaegar is back too and also some more details about Jaenna's life (again, in general cannon, but made up details - I don't know when princess of Dorne died or how it happened). And when you finish, don't let fool yourself, remember the tags of this story :)**_

* * *

Jaenna woke up with a jolt and gasped for breath. Something black landed with a scratch on the floor and hurt meow sounded next to the bed. No huge monster, small black kitten. Balerion. He had to run from Rhaenys, go to explore the castle and probably found very interesting, when she tossed herself in that terrible nightmare, so he climbed to her to look closer.  
And when she rubbed her eyes and also looked around, she noticed duskiness, but different than she remembered. The candles didn't burn, yet there was more light than during her talk with Varys. She looked to the window and also found out it's dawn. She had to fall asleep with her egg. And incur that nightmarish dream to herself.

She still faintly saw the unreal black flames so high that they would swallow the whole castle, but mostly her mother's face. She wasn't sure it corresponded with reality, because last time she saw her, she was a mere child at the age of small Tyene, but she had that vision vividly in front of her all the same. And it terrified her, it terrified her how her mother's face suddenly contorted and screamed in pain tearing her in pieces. Jaenna didn't want to see more and didn't want to imagine more. Actually, she was grateful for Balerion and his awakening. She still barely breathed and trembled. It wasn't her first dream about falling, probably everyone was at least once falling in his dreams and ended in his bed with twitch. And it wasn't even the worst thing. The scream was. She had never heard so frightening one. She wanted to help her, reach her, but couldn't stand up or talk, whatever was happening to her, she had to let her suffer and fall into desperation until everything disappeared.  
Just, her mother was long dead and she had to calm down. A stupid dream, nothing more. Stupid, strange dream, maybe because she was more tired than she thought or because Varys tried to infatuate her. Her mother didn't suffer behind the wall of flames. She was dead and buried and it was a closed matter for her and her father for years now.

Therefore, she put her legs out of her bed and stretched to finally stop the shaking, but then stopped. The last thing she remembered was her lying down in bed with her egg and there was nothing beside her now. On the opposite, there was a tray of food on the table in front of her bed and the coat she left on the floor yesterday was gone. Someone was in her chamber... maids maybe, and they saw the egg! Someone...

She immediately slipped out of the bed and frenetically scattered pillows and blankets. Perhaps it just bogged down somewhere, perhaps she kicked it on the floor. But she didn't find any big, round and hard thing or hear it fall. Therefore, she desperately threw herself under the bed, but the egg wasn't even there. She pushed the chest in which she brought it to reach further, but still nothing. Until she finally noticed the unsecured cover of the chest and when she moved with it, it leaped. So she pulled it out to the light and breathed a sigh of a huge relief.  
The egg perched on the inside and a scrap of paper lay beside it. She caressed the rough surface of the petrified shell and quietly laughed. It was safe.  
"I already thought that I would have to flip the whole castle upside down," she said and rubbed Balerion behind his ears when he sidled up to her and curiously sniffed the egg. But he probably didn't like it, because he grinned and bounced.

Then Jaenna picked up the message.  
'Be more careful' was written there without a signature, only with a circle pierced by an arrow. Or rather spear. She recognized this handwriting and if not, this symbol was clearer for her than signature. Whenever did her father send letters from his journeys, he drew this simplified sigil of house Nymeros Martell instead of his name or stern "your father". He had to come here, find her asleep and take care of everything that could the servants discover and be concerned with. Although, she didn't doubt now, that she couldn't avoid talk with him, because he surely had to find also the bloody dagger and coat, listen to the explanation she gave the guards, including the sudden outburst because of some unwelcomed guest, and as was his custom, not believe any of it.

But she definitely needed a bath at first, so she sent for a maid to prepare it and for a fresh breakfast. Balerion was already bored with her quite uninteresting morning routine, so he ran through the open window and headed somewhere into depths of the Red Keep by the outer ledge and Jaenna stripped her dress and thought what to do whit it. Should she try to get rid of those stains at all or rather toss it into litter?  
Eventually, she decided to let the laundry maids decide and tossed it to her chest with clothes. She intended to choose a different one for today, more princess-like, because she didn't feel for another wave of incitements and fights. Yesterday evening's excitement was already too much.

Then she left her chambers after the bath and breakfast, what she managed at once, in a dark blue dress from a firmer fabric. It reached to the ground for once, the skirt expanded at the back and the short puffed sleeves was falling from her shoulders, while two ribbons secured it on her neck. It also had quite a low neckline and silver embroidery on the chest, and even if blue wasn't exactly her color, she sometimes gladly changed the ubiquitous orange and yellow. Anyway, the important thing was it didn't restrict her movement despite the necessary underskirt.  
And she also noticed different men standing guard, so she avoided questions, even if she asked them to make well sure that no one would enter her chambers, and knocked on the opposite door of her father's chamber. But no one responded and one of the guards told her that the prince left at dawn.

All the better, he pushed her reprimand for later. Although, if she would have to tell him the truth, he might rather commend her work. However, she couldn't tell him about Varys and the egg. It would lead nowhere because he could order her to take guards everywhere, he could order to not leave her chambers without escort if he feared for her safety, but he couldn't do anything with the possibility of Varys scheme. Unless some craziness would occur to him, like lock the chest by him and paint it with basilisk venom, but then even she wouldn't be able to touch it. No, she had to come with another solution. She had to find another assurance and someone who would help her or at least testify, should Varys lie. So the only possibility occurred to her, with which she had to come up before today's dinner.

But she didn't know, where to find him. And to stop random guards, ladies, and sers or directly servants and ask them, where was the crown prince, sounded stupid. Just as it was advisable to avoid Maegor's holdfast with royal chambers and she had no idea where to turn. When she heard heavy steps of sturdy shoes and faint sound like something lightly moving over the metal plate behind her.  
"I wonder if it's my favorite grandniece!"  
"Uncle!" she turned around and saw knight of the Kingsguard in his usual white armor except his helmet. She noticed happy sparks in his eyes under the flood of black hair laced with silver strings. In fact, it wasn't her uncle but her father's uncle, but he never claimed the formal title great-uncle or perhaps prince granduncle. When he visited his family in Dorne once in a while, he clowned around with her and little Arianne despite his age so genially, that he couldn't be prince great-uncle. Always just really great uncle Lewyn. Therefore, she ran to him and hugged him over his armor.  
"Of course, it is your favorite grandniece. You don't know my sisters and unlike Arianne, I never ripped a handful of hair from you and tried to eat it, so who else should be your favorite?"  
Lewyn laughed at the memory of his meeting with then two-year Arianne, who made up her mind to catch him by the hair and didn't let go until she pulled away some of them and stuffed them into her mouth with her tiny fingers.

And Jaenna was glad to see him smile, as it was barely a while, when his sister, Jaenna's grandmother, died few weeks after Elia's wedding, Doran became the prince of Dorne and Lewyn still had to leave home and return to the Mad King. Although Doran didn't show his sadness, even if he felt it, and Jaenna didn't know her grandmother too well, because she was staying in Water Gardens, while princess as the ruler in the Sunspear, but Oberyn and mainly Lewyn looked really destroyed. Only when Oberyn went to forget his sorrow to the Summer Isles, Jaenna saw even Lewyn curing in the company of some woman. Not that she was surprised, she used to hear comments about alleged paramour of the white knight from time to time and as long as that woman made him happy, she knew it was not her concern. Moreover, she understood the need of unmarried guardsmen without families, but the vow of celibacy sounded ridiculous to her.

"I am glad to finally see you. Oberyn keeps you for himself and Elia already several days and you decided for antics instead of reunion with family, too."  
"What do you mean?" she asked carefully, although she knew very well.  
"To trounce our sworn brother is not something you can keep secret. Particularly in the city," he winked at her.  
"Ser Jaime... agreed with our training and... he is worse archer. And he is the same age, so why should it not happen? It's not like I competed with the Sword of the Morning in sword fight."  
Above that, she knew she would never defeat the Sword of the Morning Arthur Dayne, another famous dornish, in sword fight. And didn't want to, she didn't want to beat people of Dorne. She wanted to beat all the others.  
"Yet, he now swallows the looks of all men who heard about it and need to laugh at him. But no worry, I am proud of you, of course. I have always known there will be a lot of your father and his talent in you. Although, little more humility would not hurt even him."  
"You are talking like uncle Doran. And it was just a game, training. In fact, he challenged me."  
"I don't blame you, though," he held her closer once more with one hand. "How ever are your sisters? And Arianne? Doran wrote to me, that she is not thrilled about her brother."  
"That's true. Girls are fine, I think the guards are reminding the pleasantly simple times with only me running around Dorne. But Arianne... Lady Mellario said, that siblings either love themselves or fight till death and that Arianne and Quent will probably fight. I hope not literally," Jaenna nodded. Arianne loved the company of her cousins, but she was also used to be the only child and now some little screaming intruder disrupted her domain. Jaenna never had such problems. Her father fetched Obara when she was in Arianne's age, but Obara was no baby either, so they started to like each other ironically due to the fight. On top of that, Nym appeared shortly after, while Oberyn didn't restrict his traveling, so Jaenna was glad for a big family and always someone to play with.

"Don't worry, these are just childish skirmishes, she surely grows from them. Do you know what? Walk with me, I just finished my duty. Where were you heading?"  
Jaenna bit her lip. Actually, she was lucky, who could know better than the Kingsguard where she would find the prince? But it had to sound even more inappropriate to him.  
"I wanted to... needed to find prince Rhaegar."  
Lewyn nodded and curiously raised his eyebrows.  
"Prince Rhaegar?"  
"Yes."  
"Didn't Elia plan a dinner for all of you tonight?"  
"She did."  
"And you need to see him now, because...?" he continued to interrogate her. She should know the curious interrogation would follow her answer. If she rather dared to stop some maid, she would simply answer her with a downcast glance and run away. And she didn't intend to tell him the truth.  
"I don't want to slit his throat, so the Kingsguard doesn't have to worry," she tried to smile on him and end it. But he didn't smile back.  
"That was not funny."  
"I know, I'm sorry. We just... debated on something and I... found another matter. And I want to know what does he think about it, so if he has time to dwell on it..."  
"Well, come to the courtyard. Prince has some urgent matter with ser Darry, one squire delivered a message to him in the morning and he left for the armory. And if you wait there, he surely has to go that way back, because he shall join today's court."

They together went to the main cobbled courtyard, while Jaenna depicted Lewyn some newest events from her homeland. He then insisted on waiting with her for the prince and making her company for a while, but she was well aware of the tiredness in his eyes. He probably stood the guard the whole night. Therefore, she sent him rest and sat in one of the chairs in arcade bordering the free space. There was peace everywhere so far. A servant or squire passed through the courtyard every now and then, some of them looked curiously in her direction, as she sat there just like that, but she ignored them. She remembered the direction to the armory and watched when would someone appear.  
Meanwhile, sun rays climbed higher and higher upon the towers of the castle and usurped bigger and bigger piece of the courtyard. Climbing roses growing from flowerpots around reddish columns started to open their blossoms to them and rising voices of birds started to mix with unleashing rush of the garrison grasping their duties in the new day.

But Jaenna had a feeling that she would either call off her waiting or fall asleep. Rhaegar still didn't come and she was losing her patience very quickly. In the end, she simply got up and decided to go to the armory by herself. She shouldn't send Lewyn away.  
Hence, she smoothed her skirts and stepped out. But before she managed it through the whole courtyard, Rhaegar finally emerged against her in his black tunic and hair shining in the morning sun.

"My princess," he stopped after several steps and slightly bowed.  
"My prince," Jaenna smiled and repaid his courtesy.  
"What brings you out of the castle so early?"  
"You will be amazed, but you."  
Rhaegar looked most surprised.  
"I want to... talk again about that... matter, which did we discussed in the Throne room."  
"Oh, of course, please," Rhaegar now looked really intrigued and understand, that it would not be a proper theme for the planned dinner. He just didn't know what should she add more.  
"No, I would rather... somewhere, where no one unwelcomed can listen. And where can I come, when I fetch something in my chambers."  
Rhaegar immediately knew what did she want to bring. And even if he considered further talking about dragons meaningless after their last departing, he couldn't refuse the offer to see her egg and find out, whether she knew something about it.

So she hurried to her chamber after a while, where she pulled out her bloodied dress from yesterday and wrapped her egg into it, so it still looked like an ordinary package of fabric. She quickly made up a story for everyone who would stop her, that she was heading to the royal laundry to find out, whether would be possible to wash the stains, which should be uninteresting for anyone, and also decided to let herself be guarded by one of her father's men this time. For him, she had again a story about that squire with a broken nose. She told him she met him again, he threatened her with his companion and she was not interested in fights today, 'look at my flashy dress, if it pleases you, shame to ruin it'. Just to be sure that no one would get in her way.

Then she quickly came to the library, where she should find a small back room and meet the prince. Rhaegar couldn't guarantee that no one would hear them or the spies wouldn't get too close, but it was the best chamber to discuss something private if they didn't want to use prince's bedchamber. And that would be extremely improper, as well as using hers.  
Therefore, she left the guard with pierced rhoynar sun on his emblem in the library behind the doors to the separate room to not let him see who she met there or what would they do, slipped inside and carefully closed behind her. She noticed there was a very little light. The only small window cringed near the ceiling and the candles lit by Rhaegar had to provide the rest. And prince himself already waited seated in a chair at small dusty desk.

"I hope you are not waiting too long. It is probably really stupid, but... I needed someone's help and I found no one better than you."  
"You doest me an honor, but I don't know whether can I help until I know what is on your mind," he stared at bulky and not really neat package in her hands. Therefore, Jaenna didn't linger, put it on the desk and set the egg free from the folds of the crumpled dress. Dark, black in this dimness, with thin golden strings shining between cusps on the eggshell.  
"Your master of whisperers somehow got into my chambers last night and found it. And he had strange speech and... I am afraid he could try something. I was hoping you could testify it really belongs to me in that case if I show you and that I had it here. And also..." she looked away, "I wanted to show you."

Rhaegar bent to the desk and watched the egg closely. His eyes suddenly darkened, maybe because of the dusk, maybe because of something else, and widened in surprise and interest.  
"You were right, it's beautiful... and the dragon inside has to be..."  
"I can't really imagine it, it's hard to imagine dragon if I don't know what they really looked like. The drawings of them are different in every book and descriptions as well."  
"He would be black and gold. Most writings agree, that dragon has the same color as the shell of his egg. Black scales, golden horns... maybe."  
Jaenna tried to imagine such dragon but failed again. She didn't want to see mere toothed lizard with wings like in her dreams and even skulls in the Throne room didn't help her much. But she suspected he would be magnificent.

"May I...?" the prince nodded to the egg and Jaenna agreed. She never allowed anyone to touch her belongings and especially not the valuable ones. Or so mysterious, that she herself wasn't sure what they meant for her. Like this. Her father held it for some time before he brought it to her, but firstly, she fully trusted him, secondly, it was a gift from him and thirdly, he didn't feel any connection or possible use with it. It was just a thing for him, an expensive thing that should make his daughter happy and perhaps entertained for some time, he even didn't suspect what it could affect. But otherwise, no one could take it. Probably only Doran knew about it as next and her sisters maybe guessed something but didn't show any concern. Fight was everything for Obara and she brushed off trinkets and treasures. Nym looked sweet but loved throwing knives more than history or the world - Jaenna already hoped a few times, that she would not throw them on her when she would realize the only difference between her noble lady mother from Volantis and Jaenna's lady mother from Lys, namely the marriage with their father that was responsible for being Sand in Nym's case and Martell in Jaenna's. And Tyene was still too young to care, and no one else.  
But she made an exception for Rhaegar. Not that she trusted him completely, but she felt his real and serious interest. He was the first person connected with her through this.

So the prince carefully ran his fingers over the shell. He knew he couldn't break it, not even if he really tried. It wasn't a caution, more a pure respect tucked somewhere deep in forgotten corner of his soul shared by all dragonlords.  
Jaenna watched him grasp the egg and lift it, even if it didn't respond to him at all. Not like to her. Or did she really just dreamed up all that throbbing? But it didn't have to respond. Rhaegar still leaned it to one of the candles and its flame gleamed on its shell. It didn't seem completely black this time, but it still wasn't possible to clearly tell whether it's dark blue, deep purple or whether their eyes fooled them even now. Then he carefully laid it back. He probably even didn't notice in what did she bring it or he entirely ignored that.

"Did you feel it?" she asked little doubtfully. The prince shook his head.  
"It's not always happening, only sometimes..." she pressed her palm to the shell herself. The egg wasn't hot now and she thought she looked foolish for a moment. And Rhaegar had to think the same because she felt his eyes on her. Therefore, she turned to him, but he seemed more curious than non-believing. And then it happened.

"Now, it is... I feel it, I feel it under the shell," she gasped and Rhaegar immediately pressed his palm next to hers. She didn't learn whether he noticed it too, but he appeared equally blown away. He had to feel something. They stood there for a moment, almost breathless, side by side, trying to catch a weak sound of some perhaps long dead dragon and then he moved his palm on hers and squeezed it, so she now didn't hold the dragon's egg but dragon's prince. But that usual intense feeling didn't leave her as quickly as it should. Nor him. And certainly not when she tasted his lips on hers.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Here with a new chapter! This one is just talking and thinking and with only one little wannabe plot. I wanted include the promised dinner with Rhaegar and Elia and also one event before it, but it's already long enough. And every time I re-read it I add something instead of deleting. I really get now, why we don't have Winds of Winter yet :)**_

 _ **But on the other hand, not much events remains and a muse attacked me in the shower (typically) and I wrote a frame for the two last pre-rebellion chapters, what may be the last ones, if I would not want to continue. And once I have „done" the end, you can count I will complete it.**_

* * *

She didn't remember how did she get into her chambers. In fact, she even didn't remember what happened. She only noticed with surprise, that she was holding her dragon's egg in her hands and that she had to make the whole journey from the library all the same. Probably just so. Because she didn't bring back the dress into which she wrapped the egg.  
Getting better and better, she thought. And then she remembered her guard and all he had to see and think. But, oddly enough, she didn't care. Who cared what did some soldier think? His word might have some weight for Oberyn, but her word would outweigh it. And mainly, that was not the most important thing. Princ Rhaegar was.  
Rhaegar.  
Rhaegar with his silver hair. Captivating look. And lips attacking hers. How long did it last? A moment? Two? An hour? She lost the sense of time. Like there was none. Did he say something to her? Did she run or fell for him? Gods, why did she feel like walking through the dream with mist all around her?

Not that one kiss would unsettle her so much. She already kissed a man. When she was little, son of the steward of Water Gardens had stolen few kisses. They were children, true, but he was still the first one. And later, in the flowering of her womanhood, she used to like to let lords and knights court, flatter and kiss her hands and two or three most daring honored with her own lips. Until the future lord Ulrick Uller and smell of wine and snake's stew in his mouth. Her stomach almost turned then and they received only kisses from her spear if they were brave or foolish enough to volunteer to fight, ever since.

But this was different, this tasted... how did it taste? Certainly not like a snake's stew. Maybe little bit like a dragon's fire, maybe... oh, stupid girl, how easily did she let him woo her! How could the daughter of the Red Viper behave like that? Although, there was a simple answer.

Already upon their first encounter, he was charming, chivalrous, gentle, he didn't get mad even if she offended him. And handsome, he was handsome. Not really happy smile and eyes... when she thought of them, she knew she could drown in them. Purple, like all of his house, but different. Deep, so deep and sad... and lips tasting like cinnamon. Yes, she remembered, cinnamon and fireplums or oranges freshly picked from the tree on the warm courtyard. She couldn't tell exactly, it remained her her home. No wonder she could get lost in him and Sand snake or not, fall for his charm of the perfect prince.  
But married.

She shook her head. This didn't unsettle her, not just one ordinary kiss. She was an unwed highborn lady. She had the privilege to dream about other men, like a Dornishwoman even kiss them and take them into her bed. She knew many of them would not protest, she could just strip off her dress. Or let whoever would seduce her do it. But not the one sworn to another, whom she cared about.  
Such men had no right to seduce her. He had no right. He couldn't do this to her aunt, he couldn't. Why did he even try? And what did he try? He should be the knight with all realm enthusing about him. Was she wrong? Was everyone wrong? And he was like Robert, Ulrick, Daeron or her father, also just a man?

Confusion and dreaminess were slowly leaving her and anger replaced them. She wouldn't blink, would it be someone else. A knight, lord, armourbearer, for Crone's wizened skin's sake, even ashamed Golden Jaime Lannister! But the prince? Just a few days after she blamed him for his lack of interest in Elia?

However, she wasn't angry just because of him. Neither she ran away, she remembered even that. She gently put her palm on his cheek and let him embrace her. As if he was a siren, mythical creature, about wich she read and what could daze anyone just with its voice. She returned it to him like to no one before. She kissed the husband of her aunt and instead of regrets, she was floating through a dream as if he was just another Dornish lordling vainly hoping to get viper's daughter instead of viper's bite. And above all, she liked it!

She knew they were telling many not nice things about Dornishmen and many men considered Dornishwomen as whores. She didn't deny it, women and men, everyone could enjoy his life in Dorne, without chains of high court etiquette, if they wanted. But not her, she... no one would make a whore of her. She had to wake up immediately. Forget. Especially when the family dinner was awaiting her tonight.

And the best way to forget, clean her head and slip into her fearless dragon's skin of viper, was, according to her, deal with everything that could her escapade cause as fast as possible Therefore, she put her egg back to the chest, looked into her mirror and stepped out of her chamber.  
That guard who was in the library with her stood a short walk from the door, so she came to him, stood in front of him and looked into his uninvolved face.  
The guard returned her gaze little bit uncertainly.  
"Ehm," she cleared her throat. And continued to stare at him.  
"Mhm..." he repeated and didn't understand what was going on.  
"I felt ill in the library, I am afraid."  
"...I am afraid you did, my princess," he nodded, confused.  
"And I am also afraid, that... I wasn't... paying enough attention... regarding..."  
But the guard really looked more and more confused. She had to seem like a fool last few minutes.  
"I really wasn't myself and I think I walked through the castle with..."  
"Oh," he finally understood, "the prince instructed us about your property. I offered you my cloak, you were pale, ill and we have clear orders to not let anyone see what did you bring."

Of course. Her egg wasn't such huge secret, but she also didn't need all realm to know about it. So her father's guards, now in fact also hers, were instructed to watch it.  
"Of course. But I would like to talk about it with father by myself," she stated when she realized she really didn't remember walking back from the library, but she decided to trust him. She didn't want to tell it to the father, quite the opposite, but if she didn't assure him, he would undoubtedly report everything. And she would feel even worse. Oberyn knew how to sense a lie. Moreover, that's why she would have to be very careful with her story about a squire with broken nose.

When he nodded, after all, what else could he do, she was his princess, she walked down the stairs to the ground floor. There she glanced on the place where that drunken soldier had slammed her against the wall and noticed a bloody stain. Did not anyone else notice it? Or had no time to clean it? At least, it didn't stand out on those reddish stones.

But even that didn't matter. She rather looked ahead and walked through the gate, though she didn't know where was she heading. She just couldn't remain in place. However, some girl solved it for her. Girl maybe a few years older, in a bright green gown with a long skirt, but deeply incised bodice on the back with wine grapes embroidered with golden thread. According to the colors, she would think her Tyrell, but the grapes were on the Redwyne's sigil. The most known houses of Reach and houses with most hatred for Dorne. But not that it was different from the other side. Mainly since her father competed against Willas Tyrell, the heir of Highgarden, knocked him down and his horse entangled himself in his own legs and crushed the lordly one in the process. Willas didn't blame him. Oberyn gave him a hawk as an apology and Willas occasionally sent letters to him. Maybe twice he sent a courtesy letter even to her to her name's day. But the other Tyrells and their family saw it otherwise. Therefore, she was surprised, that this lady of the Reach, Tyrell or Redwyne, which was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, wanted have anything to do with her.

"Princess Jaenna," she made a little courtesy.  
"Lady..." she thought for a while who could she be to properly address her, but eventually gave up. She had no clue about names of young roses.  
"Mina Tyrell, princess. Oh, pardon me, already Redwyne for some time. It is not easy to get accustomed," she laughed and winked. So Jaenna was right. Lady Redwyne. The wife of the lordling who thought his Arbour wine competitive to Dornish.  
"Ah, I have no doubt about it," she nodded and waited, what would this brown-haired girl with big brown eyes say further. She thought it would be very interesting if she couldn't even remember her name. Yes, she should properly start with how was she pleased with their encounter and congratulate her on her marriage, but she saw no reason. Their encounter didn't please her and she didn't care at all whether did she marry lord Redwyne or shepherd. Mainly when Rheagar and anger mixed with confusion over her own reaction still pulsated in her head. And courtesy and false flattery sickened her anyway. She wasn't like that all her life, actually, she suspected Obara and her influence. Because no septa ever raised Obara, she never feared to tell what she thought, including the desire to kill someone, and Jaenna always felt the need to be also such tough snake. They were almost the same age and competed for everything. In a good way.  
"I was hoping to reach you. I don't w... ant to bother you..." she frowned a little, when she noticed, that Jaenna didn't pay her much attention.

But she finally understood, what was this about. The Reach was almost theatrically loyal to Targaryens and she probably decided to try to befriend the niece of their future queen. That wasn't uncommon. Even if Jaenna should never get to the throne or any other chair of any other ruler, she was related to her, loved by her and that was enough for many to want to be on her good side. It's always better to have a friend in queen's niece than had no one with a strong voice at all. And she also realized, that insolence wouldn't help her. On the contrary, some clucking conventional lady could lead her thoughts away. To whatever from songs to dresses.

"Oh, not at all. I was thinking what to do and today's weather is perfect for spending some time in someone's company," therefore Jaenna smiled, falsely, though.  
"Really? I would be greatly honored if you joined me and my cousins for a cup of tea. We let it prepare in the rose bower. Because I am to leave the city for the Arbor right after the Aegon's feast and local gardens are the best place to spend last days here."

So Jaenna let her hook their arms and drag herself to the rose bower. During their walk, after a very short polite prelude consisting of "How do you like King's Landing" and even more polite "It's different from home", she listened to Mina's ode to lord Paxter and his great fleet. She described him as manly and attractive ginger, expressed her concern whether would she bear him equally spruce sons and revealed with blush, that even if they didn't see each other since her departing for the city because he had to deal with an important business in the Arbor and she went with her Tyrell family, they were frequently trying. Maybe they really should talk rather about dresses. That way, there would be less blushing and giggling.

Jaenna just constantly nodded and sometimes growled „ahm", „really?" or „oh, do not say," otherwise she didn't listen to her much, so at first, she even didn't realize, that Mina asked whether she already had any suitors, when she seated her into an empty chair between other two girls in similar gowns. Only blue in one case and with leafs embroidered on the entire length and with a silk scarf in the other. She realized that they were awaiting her reaction only when all three looked at her and fell silent.

"Ehm... beg you pardon?"  
"Mina, you and your obsession with marriage beds of other people," girl in blue shoved her cousin.  
"I just wondered, after all, she is the princess from Dorne and the family of future kings. And look at those beautiful dark curls, a lot of men is surely falling to her feet. I wish they would be falling to my feet. It would be funny to see Paxter jealous."  
All three laughed as if they had never heard a better joke and Jaenna politely lifted corners of her mouth.  
"Not likely, my father is not the prince of Dorne, so it's not so-"  
"But isn't that just perfect? The future princess of Dorne can not marry an heir of some great house, it would mean complications, and she is too small now, but the niece of the prince of Dorne and future queen? Unwed lords have to have a wolf's fog upon their eyes if they don't beg for your hand."  
"If you think so..." she shrugged. On one hand, she sneered. There was one lord not begging for her hand having "wolf's fog upon him". Robert doting his wolf's Starks. But of course, there were other candidates, only she didn't jump in front of septon with them like other southern ladies, as well as her father didn't hungrily grasp anyone who showed interest and clinked with gold, and so this debate wasn't for her. Especially when the second of Mina's cousins, the one who didn't express herself and chastely hid her smiles behind her scarf until now, started to rave about ser Fossoway, a knight who would certainly crown her the queen of love and beauty, would he win the last tourney in the Oldtown. Just he let himself unhorse promptly in the second joust, which, however, wasn't his fault at all, because his opponent cheated shamelessly. At least according to her. All that remained was to pull out needlework. Again, why was she there?

Then it occurred to her, what would they say, if she pulled out a bow and also started to talk about knights, but about knights she was hunting with. Or about catching vipers with her father and extracting their poison. And if they're talking like that even at home, because it seemed to her like this city was riddled with some plague causing chanting about weddings. After all, she herself talked about suitors with Oberyn. Therefore, she stopped to listen again and pricked up her ears only when she heard Willas' name.

Then she noticed that hymn about ser of Red apples and tiltyard's mud had ended and Mina started to tell like her nephew, man almost as old as Jaenna, trained a hawk gifted by Sunspear so greatly, that he decided to take others and establish a breeding. He even allegedly gave one of them as a wedding gift to her and Paxter. And how clever and chivalrous he was, even if he could't be knighted.  
"Yes, it really is a shame, that he can not be a knight. Yet, he would be an example for everyone... I hope your brother understand the look is not everything and find him a good wife. Willas would be by far the best man any lady can get. And he has not a single offer yet, do you understand it, my princess?" the blue lady spoke again.

Finally, Jaenna realized the whole extent. They didn't want to befriend her. She doubted they devised it, rather one of the Tyrells commanded them to try, but anyway, she easily managed to see through it despite her indifference in politics and scheming. They tried to bring her to interest in Willas and eventually evoke ideas about courtship. Praise him to seven heavens and move another step closer to the royal family. Sure, why else would ladies of the Reach invite her for tea? Although, she would like to know who stood behind it. She strongly doubted that lord Mace agreed. Everybody knew the true "lord" behind him was lady Olenna and she hated Oberyn. At least he told her so. She doubted she would yearn to have a viper in her dear Highgarden. Maybe Doran's daughter, but a poisonous snake's spawn?

So in the end, it wasn't so hard to let herself distract because such finding surprised her and didn't bring the best feeling. Therefore, she might directly ask who would let her get involved with Willas, but fortunately, other way occurred to her.  
"I can not judge his prospect of a bride, but I heard he is a fine man. He seems like that, he writes to my father sometimes. But I feel lord Tyrell dislikes it. As is well known, The Reach and Dorne are no friends and I think your family especially bears no love for mine." Mainly Willas' parents for her father.  
To her surprise, Mina waved her hand.  
"True, my lady mother begins to rant every time someone says the name Martell, please for forgiveness, my princess, but she is such woman. However, my brother Mace doesn't see everything so bad. He says that incident was Willas' fault, he didn't prepare himself enough and didn't pay attention and we probably never find out how it really happened. But I can assure you, he bears no ill will towards you."

Jaenna smirked. She tried to make it look like a smile, but it probably didn't work. They would never find out how it really happened? Naturally, because lord Mace sent his boy on the tiltyard against one of the most skilled opponents, barely grown out of his wooden sword. How could he expect he would manage a horse during fall? Or that there would be no fall? Willas told it himself, but his father would never admit it and lady Olenna didn't need even that for her hatred towards Dornishmen. But now it seemed that her fattening son overpassed her and decided to climb a few other rungs closer to the Iron Throne. It wasn't obvious, but she had heard it from uncle Doran. And because it was too soon for marriage proposal of his second son and little Rhaenys, when both of them barely toddled, and he had no daughter for Viserys, he needed to look for another girl close enough to the kings. At least for now. And as the blue lady noted, all the possible ladies went up a blind alley. What better could he hope for? Lady Frey?

But she didn't think she wanted to consider a carefully hidden offer right now. At least for the time being. She knew Willas' qualities, her father never spoke ill about him and when her father didn't speak ill about someone, he had to be at least one of the Seven descending from heavens, but when she tried to imagine him, a man with typical tyrell's features, someone else appear in his stead. A silver prince.  
Therefore, she quickly thought how to back out of the conversation, but she didn't have to for long. Because all three girls suddenly put their cups aside and stood up and Mina, with short frown replaced immediately with smile, mumbled: "My prince..."

Jaenna tensed. She was afraid, that Rhaegar was standing behind her and she couldn't guess how to react when would she turn. But instead of Rhaegar, she saw a long orange doublet girded with a leather belt with a rhoynish sun of her father.  
"Ladies... I hope I am not intruding. Jaenna."  
"Father, of course not. Is there something wrong?" even she stood up, grateful for every distraction. Even if it meant time for discourse about her yesterday's bloody adventure.  
"No, do not worry. But I hoped we can talk as well. The royal dinner is awaiting us and I would like to discuss some issues with you. As long as ladies excuse us."  
"Of course, my prince," the more expressive girl nodded, although, she, in fact, had no other choice. "It was nice to meet you. I hope you will have time to join us again before the feast."  
"Me too, I would like to hear other... interesting stories about your dear Willas," she tried to flatter at least now, gladly took her place alongside her father and walked away from the bower with him.

"Did you find new friends?" he asked amused. And was even more amused, when he saw her annoyed expression.  
"Pff. Friends, who wanted me to marry Willas Tyrell for all their love and then run as far as possible. A moment longer and I would have to mix sweetsleep into their tee. And I wouldn't try to count the drops."  
"Do you have some here?"  
"I would manage."  
Oberyn smiled, but she noticed, that his smile didn't reach his eyes this time and that he seemed quite darkly. She fidgeted.

"You... want to know what happened, don't you?"  
"I can't wait to hear that."  
"Hmmm... and... what exactly?" at first, she tried to determine what did he know or suspect.  
"I inspected that dagger. It wasn't yours. It looks too ordinary for any weapon you could take from the armory in Sunspear. Or I ever gave you."  
"Oh..." so he knew everything because it really was him who found her bloodied coat and dagger.  
"You are right, it wasn't. I forgot it and then even the egg and fell asleep. Thank you that you hid it before maids could find it."  
"I'm doing what is needed. But I wonder where did the blood come from."  
"You didn't ask the guards?" she again tried to play for time, but knew she hadn't much left. Oberyn was dangerous, she had no illusions, and hated when someone lied to him. Including her.  
"I did not meet a squire with a broken nose, did not hear anyone talking about your fight with squires and actually do not know that you ever met any squire. And I doubt it was blood of Jaime Lannister, especially when you ridiculed him with a bow.  
"It is not blood of Jaime Lannister. It's the owner's of the dagger," she nodded in the end, sighting, and when she saw him urging her to continue, added: "From his wrist."  
"And I feel like it was not some impudent squire questioning your skills."  
"No, some soldier, he was... he touched me... tried to touch me... drag me away... I stabbed him and didn't want you to know about it."  
Oberyn's eyes hardened more.

"Why? Would you mind if I killed him?" he asked and it didn't sound strange to her. She had no doubt he would do it, in fact, it was the reaction she awaited.  
"No, I do not care about his life, he is but a filthy pig. But I coped with it by myself, I managed it and I didn't want you to intervene and regard me helpless!"  
"I know you can take care of yourself. You should. And when he took this liberty, he got off cheap. If you told me who did it, I would kill him and I'm glad you let him taste viper's teeth. I would never regard you helpless. But I am worried about you, you have to be more careful. You did manage him, yes. But then you let all your bloodied things on the floor and everyone who would come to you see your treasure."  
Jaenna nodded but kept silent. She had nothing more to say. She couldn't say more. To continue about Varys? Or today's morning with Rhaegar? She would be again just a little girl chiding for some naive silliness. Only this was no naive silliness. Or was it? When Rhaegar did... what he did?  
"I am sorry, father."  
"At least, you really managed an attacker. I hope he lost his hand."  
Jaenna smiled maliciously. "He might bleed out."

When Oberyn laughed, she was relieved, because she understood chastening ended. Then they talked about Willas for a while. Like who could have some odd idea to try to lure her into the wedding with him. Oberyn stated, that they could try, they were friends with Willas and he gave him the best hawk, but it definitely didn't mean he would give him even his daughter, and promised her ride to the city. With that, she looked at her skirt, considered breeches instead of underskirt would be enough, agreed and rushed back to her chambers to prepare for the reunion with her sand steed in the royal stables after a long time. He surely had to be dying of boredom.

Therefore, she ran up the stairs and opened her door. But to her dismay found out she was not alone again. And to her frustration that guards probably disobeyed her command to not let anyone in.  
"What are you doing here?!"

* * *

 _ **Note: I really don't know whether the idiom „to have a wolf's fog" means something in English. In Czech it means „be blind to something" or „overseeing something" and I couldn't find any other in dictionaries and it wouldn't work without some comparsion referring to Robert.**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Finally, there is the promised royal dinner and of course revealing of who was in Jaenna's chambers. I don't like adding more OCs, so it won't be an important character, but she still has an impact. And also, the Turney at Harrenhal is mentioned (placed few months before this story) but with one important change, please notice, it will tell you a lot about „my" rebellion itself and about one more thing. The show went along our favorite theory and I really felt in love with Jon Snow now, but it just didn't fit in my story.**_

* * *

"My princess," a girl, younger than she, immediately sprang up. She wore a typical dress of lady's maid, but little bit dangling around her hips and without decorations, which meant she was no court lady's maid. Maybe Jaenna shouldn't hurry and impatiently wave at her guard, perhaps he would explain it to her. Now she just waited for an explanation from her and burned her with her eyes.  
"My name... is Annara Waters, if it please you."  
"Waters? Some lord's bastard?" the princess asked more automatically than interested. She could be the Queen herself for all she cared, still, she wouldn't be pleased until she said what did she want.  
"Yes," the girl cast down her eyes. "But he is dead. I was three years old when he died. And my mother died a few days ago."  
"You don't have to talk about it with shame. I care not what side of the blanket did they conceive you on. I care about what are you doing here."

The girl breathed in, probably to pluck up some courage. She didn't seem like a trained servant of noble ladies.  
"The Queen sent me. Since my mother died, there's no one to support me and she had no use for me. I would have to leave the city. But then she said go and find princess Martell and offer your service to her. She allegedly has no personal servants here and if she accepts, go to Dorne with her. But if my princess doesn't want me, I... will find something else."  
Of course, you will, Jaenna thought. Spreading legs in the nearest brothel or in military camps, if you would not have a bit of luck. But then something else occurred to her. The Queen sent her a maid? The Queen gave her such unusual gift? Why would she do that? She even didn't see her, how could she know she had no servants here? Unless...

"Did she ordered to you send messages about me, too?" she looked that girl right in the eyes when she lifted them after a while of silence and noticed, how frightened they were.  
"No, my princess, I swear, I am no spy!"  
"Are you sure? I am the snake from Dorne, I can tell if someone is lying to me, my father taught me. You know who he is, don't you?"  
The girl stiffly nodded.  
"I... they call him... the Red Viper."  
"And do you know why?"  
"He knows... knows poisons, princess. He's... dangerous. I swear, I am no spy, no one wanted me to snitch on you."

Jaenna nodded. She could play it so well or she was really so scared. It amused her a little. The servants in Water Gardens never trembled before her. She was friendly to the younger ones if nothing angered her and knew about the elders, that they belonged to her uncle and served well, so she didn't need to cause unnecessary problems. But this one was inexperienced and talked with a Dornish woman maybe for the first time in her life. Or rather with a Sandy Whore, how did some call them.

„You are afraid. Of him or me? Do you think I hurt you?"  
"I..."  
"Speak."  
"They say... they call you Sand snake and... they say you took a man's hand when he touched you. That you knocked out ser Jaime and that... you poison everyone who..."  
"Who?" Jaenna encouraged her. Suddenly, Annara blushed deeply.  
"...doesn't please you..."  
"In my bed? Tell me, shall I do it the old way, put the poison into their wine, or paint my body with poison to let them suffocate and bleed from all holes of theirs while they are inside of me?" she grinned. She would never let herself speak so openly in front of more important people. Therefore, she blushed like a little girl when she started a litany about men near Rhaegar. But she had no problem with a lowborn shaking pack of skin and bones in front of her.

However, this was probably too much. Annara dropped to her knees. She started to apologize for entering her chambers and vowed that she would leave the city and never bother her. She came close to curling up on the floor.  
Jaenna sincerely laughed.

"You really believe it? Oh, arise. Such stupid rumours are spread by old shrunken hags with no better pastime. And I sometimes enjoy playing with them and torment those who believe it. But don't worry. I won't torment you and my father won't hurt you. He doesn't care whom I chose to be of help."  
"But ser Jaime and..."  
"Now, now! Get up," she pulled her arm, so the girl stood up again. "I and ser Jaime competed in the archery. I'm using a bow from my childhood, I defeated him. And regarding that man, trust me. He touched me and wanted to touch more. Be glad, if that never happened to you. Every woman should take much more than just a hand of him when he is reaching into her dress and has no right."  
"Yes, my princess."  
"Don't say yes my princess like you even didn't listen to me. As far as I shall trust you, I want to know you trust me. I won't punish you when you won't agree with me or hear something. If you really want to be in my service. Who was your father?"  
"Lord Gwayne Mallery."  
Jaenna frowned. "I don't know him."  
"He was no great lord. My mother served him, but when..."  
"When he found out she is with child, he removed her from his castle, because he didn't want to be stuck with a bastard."

Annara blushed again.  
"He gave her money. She found a work here and when he came to the court once, people started to say I look quite like him, till he admitted the truth. But mother fell ill and died."  
"I do not care whether are you a bastard. I have three illegitimate sisters. I love them. No one cares in Dorne and if you want to go there, we find some work for you. Only, there is very hot weather, hot food and hot men. It's different."  
"As my princess says. I have nowhere to go. I get used to."

Jaenna watched her one more minute. Annara wasn't pretty enough to be from a great noble house. Her hair was pale and lusterless, her eyes dull and watery. Her mother had to have a bad taste in men or no word, if lord Mallery looked like that too.  
She wanted to believe her. Her blush, fear, desire to go and forget this stupid idea were too strong to be pretended. And send her away and offend the Queen? Also a bad idea. Moreover, if she would go to Dorne with her, she would have no way to send messages. A common maid couldn't silently send a raven and Jaenna could watch with whom would she associate. And as far as she was concerned, she would either get used to or go to the next door. Why not. It wouldn't be unpleasant to have some friendly face to bring her food. In fact... she could finally have a regular maid for her future journeys. She'd never had her own maids, nor did she need them, but whenever she left Water Gardens and not just for Sunspear, she had to rely either on herself or strangers. And she couldn't entrust a half of her matters to strangers. Now it could change.

"Very well. If you will perform your work properly, you can stay. But I won't need you now. We are going to ride into the city with my father and then I am to attend the royal dinner," princess' eyes finally left Annara and she knelt to her chest with dresses to find her riding breeches.  
"I should... help you. With clothing for a ride and-," Annara beeped again.  
"I can dress myself, thank you. If you want to serve me, so be it, but only with the matters I tell you," Jaenna growled at her because she hated someone else tottering around her while she was preparing for her day. But then she breathed and softened her tone.  
"I can never braid my hair correctly. You can help me with that. But I care about my dresses myself. You can go now. Some of our guards will find you upon our arrival. You will help me prepare for the dinner, you know those royal manners better."

The girl courtesied, with relief or fright of in whose hands did she appear, Jaenna couldn't say, and left. Perhaps she won't be so hopeless. If she would undo her timidity and stolid reticence typical for servants in the Red Keep. And if she wouldn't faint when she would find out that she would assist with weapons rather than dresses. And if not, Jaenna could let her at lady Mellario for Arianne. Or let her go where would her feet carry her, after all, she wouldn't end differently here.

But they carried her into her chambers again about an hour before the dinner. At that time, Jaenna was decided to keep Annara even after their departure for home. Because when she said to her father who did she find in her chambers and why, he looked weird and stated, that it was very courteous from the Queen. And that he is not convinced about any ulterior motives, so it would be rude to refuse. Even if he wasn't able to tell why did she send her. Why did she give her. Maybe she just tried to be nice to the family of her daughter-in-law?

So she let bring water for her bath, washed sweat and smell of horses and picked a new dress. Light, airy, prepared for the feast, the last one she brought because she didn't think about the possible destruction of her favourite blood orange dress and couldn't wear the same one she had in the city or directly her tunic with longer, almost transparent skirt. Then she sat in front of the mirror and Annara seized her task.

She was nervous and restless. Jaenna didn't allow her to help her with drying or getting dressed and she felt inappropriately. But when she told her to braid her hair like ladies in the King's landing, she found her quite handy. Soon she had a circle of her own hair around her head like she was wearing a black crown and a big bun settled in it. But it didn't look ridiculous. When she finally get all those fidgety hair locks out of her face, her eyes could stand out and she looked slightly taller. But she wouldn't have the patience for it every day.

Then she let Annara be Annara after she explained to her no entering her chambers without an explicit consent and leaving right before her and joined her father.  
Just it occurred to her along her way, that she might throw Annara out to wander through the castle because she didn't ask her whether did they expelled her from whatever place she used for sleeping after the death of her mother, but it was too late. She said to herself, that Annara would tell her. Unless she still feared her, but... she was no longer a child. She was thirteen and not mute. No one would speak for her.

On top of that, she again started to be nervous. Her father commended her hairstyle, but even that didn't calm her. She looked forward to meeting Elia, on the other hand, dreaded the presence of Rhaegar. The morning chirrup of little roses of Reach about Willas and thoughts about her new handmaiden ousted him out of her head and the ride with her father was nicely refreshing, but now he was back. What would he do?  
Bigger and bigger lump increased in her throat with every step to the royal levels in the Maegor's holdfast. He didn't tell Elia, she was sure about that. It was too daring and bad to confess. Only, wouldn't her face betray them? Wouldn't she reveal involuntarily, that something happened between them? Would she be able to even look at him?

She couldn't find an answer nor notice Oberyn while he tried to tell her something. And when they found themselves in the guarded corridor to the small formal hall with a set table, next to the Queen's ballroom, she thought her knees would buckle at any time. The dinner should start as soon as they would arrive, but Jaenna just wanted to run. Maybe her father would understand? Could she make some excuse? Or would he let her run, perhaps? What if she rather cut herself out of his grip than risking? She would make a madman of herself only in front of him and two Targaryen guards and they were meaningless to her.

However, before she could let go his arm, the decorated door to the hall opened and a woman with long dark hair and in purple dress came out. Dornish for the first sight, but not Elia, Jaenna recognized that immediately. Elia was fair, yet this woman had the face of the Maiden herself. If she would be a maiden, what was another thing differentiating her from the princess. Her dress, although of nifty cut, had no chance to cover her growing belly.  
She looked at her father and saw him smile.

"Lady Ashara," he bowed and Jaenna realized with surprise, that it really was that purple-eyed girl who left Dorne with Elia and was her good friend. She just had no clue she was married. After all, she was the heir of Starfall after ser Arthur's assigning to the Kingsguard, so not only her family would be invited to the wedding, but also she would have to be back home. So...  
"My prince, princess, glad to see you again. You are expected," she greeted them warmly. Despite Jaenna's staring at what would any other Westerosi lady considered shaming, Ashara showed no shame.  
"I am always glad to see the shine in your eyes," Oberyn replied. He clearly also overlooked her pregnancy and watched her as any other woman. With lust and charm ready to wrap around her as soon as she would drop her caution. The same one that used to bite his rivals to flesh and ripped them apart.  
"Oh, please, Oberyn, you shall leave such flattery for those to whom it works," she shook her head and ran her finger over the hem of his doublet so teasingly, that regardless of her words, flirting couldn't bother her.  
"But the dinner is ready. If you excuse me, I return to prince Aegon. Oh and lovely dress, Jaenna. Very fitting for you," she turned to the princess for a moment, then she beckoned and continued to the staircase, where she disappeared from their sight.

"Lady... Ashara? I didn't know..."  
"Harrenhal, probably," Oberyn nodded. "Very... interesting tourney with many unexpected ends. Ser Barristan unhorsed the invincible prince Rhaegar. Jaime Lannister became part of the Kingsguard. And beautiful lady Ashara..."  
"Please, tell me you are not the father!"  
A romance with a Dornish noblewoman wouldn't be strange for him. Especially in the middle of the tournament jousts.  
"There were others who couldn't stop stare at her, I am afraid. And only one at whom did she stare. I still can't understand, but that wasn't me. However, who knows whom did she choose. Come, we don't want to let Elia wait."  
She took a breath and almost said "I would," but stopped in the end. She almost could hear her father saying that there's no place for acting up, that she was invited and Elia was her aunt by blood and Rhaegar uncle by marriage. Yes, and she kissed him. Worse, in one briefest while full of defiance, she desired to do it again.  
But then she took a shame and let herself be led to the hall, when the guards opened the door for them.

Elia sat at the table set for five, exactly by the customs of someone in higher position towards the incomers, but Rhaegar, sitting in the head of the table, stood up and headed to them. His hair was braided the same way like the day she met him and when he smiled, she imagined her fingers running through it. Touching his face again. But he showed nothing. Or it at least seemed to her like that.

Therefore, she let herself be seated almost resignedly next to her father, the farthest seat from the head, right across to Rhaenys. She barely reached the fork and had to sit on some really chubby pillows, yet she smiled and was proud of attending such official event as dinner with guests. Next to Rhaenys, on Rhaegar's right hand, sat Elia and Oberyn across from her. After the courtesy and questions about their stay at the palace were answered, two servants with trays of food and another one with a jug of wine went inside. Jaenna wouldn't even notice what did they serve to her, but when Rhaenys wriggled and almost clapped because she saw her favourite honeyed chicken with blood oranges, a bit much sweet but quite light meal, she had to laugh. She imagined, that someone who would really like to jump for joy had to look like this.

"Sit properly and be careful not to soil yourself," Elia warned her when she was about to pounce on the plate with her serving of meat, cut into smaller pieces to use only a fork.  
"May I have more of the orange's dressing?" Rhaenys didn't heed her mother's words and carefully watched one servant pouring the dressing on her meat.  
"That is enough for now. There will be a dessert, you would have too full tummy."  
"But..." Rhaenys frowned disapprovingly.  
"Listen to your mother. When she was just a little older than you, she sneaked into the kitchens and gobbled a whole bowl of dressing. She was so sick then, that she didn't want to even see this dressing again."  
Rhaenys laughed and Elia puckered her lips.  
"Hard to believe this," Rhaegar only hinted his amusement as if he wasn't used to laughing, and Oberyn shrugged.  
"I was there with her. But I was stealing sweets."  
With that, Jaenna laughed too and Elia stated, that it was his idea and his ideas often ended in some similar disaster.

It really wasn't so bad in the end. Her father held most of talking and her aunt sometimes asked her, otherwise only Rhaenys peeked at her. She whispered to her, everyone naturally heard that too, that it's awful that they didn't let her bring Balerion because the poor cat wouldn't get any chicken. It was really enjoyable dinner and peaceful reunion with family. Elia even looked exceptionally healthy and in a good mood, the wine brought some colour in her cheeks, and she let her frailty in her bedroom for today.

But whenever did Jaenna lift her head from her plate and from Rhaenys or looked away from Elia, she had a feeling as if Rhaegar just did exact the opposite. Or did she just imagine his eyes on her? After all, they were not alone here and he knew how inappropriate it would be. Even she felt terribly guilty as she smiled at his daughter and blandished his wife. Was she really such a bitch? She should never respond to him. Never. She had to be more determined. She had to be Nymeros Martell again. Dornish Sand snake. And not let herself be fooled with fairness and caress.

But when servants came back for the last remains of food and let only wine on the table, she noticed Elia looking at her this time. A Little bit... sadly. Therefore, she smiled and tried to think about anything to say, when suddenly Rhaenys, greatly bored with the adult's talk, overturned a cup of her own lemon water. It spilt toward Jaenna immediately, so she jumped off the chair to prevent ruining another dress.

"Ups... pardon me..." Rhaenys cringed behind the table.  
"Someone is tired here, right?" Jaenna heard Rhaegar, who started to get up to take care of his daughter.  
"That is all right. I lead her to the bed. It's too late, we should realize she won't last so long," but Elia put her palm on his and he sat back down.  
"Moreover, I look at Aegon and Jaenna will surely accompany me. So we can talk between us women," she shot a glance at Oberyn, although hard to say what should it mean, and put the little princess on the floor.  
"Let's go, dear. Say good night."  
Rhaenys waved playfully and then tried a curtsey. Not really successfully, but endearingly due to her age. Then she ran to her father to kiss him and only after that let her mother catch her one hand, grabbed Jaenna's hand with her other and all three of them left the hall with a promise to be back soon.

They listened to Rhaenys' chatter about everything she saw during the day and finally handed her to one of the royal maids to prepare her for bed. Meanwhile, Elia sat by the cradle of little Aegon and replaced lady Ashara. Eventually, she let be seen her fatigue and fact, that she was still far from recovery.  
"He is lovely. Looks like the prince," Jaenna tried at least, although she still couldn't tell whether it's true.  
"Oh yes, I know. Rhaenys is all me, but Aegon... is Targaryen. Like his father. Once he will be breaking hearts."

Princess immediately lowered her eyes to the floor again. When she saw Rhaenys saying goodbye to her beloved father, she felt it like a sting. He was a man with a family and she promised herself to think about him no more. Why should he, in fact, attract her? She started to be angry with herself. Why had to Targaryens sway with her so much? First Viserys with his insolent comments, then Rhaegar... with equally insolent and sweet lips.

"He can do it. But it's not so easy... to gain his. I noticed, do you know?"  
"What?"  
"The way he was looking at you. I understand. You are unrestrained, beautiful young lady. You are so similar to your father, except for the eyes. But you still can look innocent and sweet... I understand why is he looking like that."  
"No, never, I swear, aunt, I would never..." she suddenly had a dry mouth and almost fell to her knees like Annara during her interrogation. Guilt brought her so deep. She should never look at him. Never admit how handsome he was. Never act like an ordinary inexperienced girl.  
"I do not blame you, but listen to me. Be careful. Beware of everyone. I know I am not princess they imagined. Princess Rhaegar imagined. Our marriage was arranged by our parents and just because they didn't find any bride with valyrian blood. And now my weakness showed even more, I am useless, the whole court says that and the King hates me. I won't hold it against you that he is looking after others. But I don't want anyone hurt you too."  
"Who could be thinking such things? You are so... kind and you've always been like the mother I never had, not like just my aunt. They are stupid if they won't see it!"  
In the end, she really knelt beside Elia and took her hand. That was not true. People loved her as well as Rhaegar, they had to know she would be a good Queen one day. And Rhaegar... he maybe didn't love her. He maybe didn't devote himself to her as he should. She told him herself. But was he really looking for a replacement? Replacement of mother of his own children?

"You were always special. You know, when Oberyn took you to the court and I saw you for the first time, I was just a curious girl. A year older than him, but Oberyn had been more a man than anyone else already as a boy. And he didn't seem like a boy to me anymore anyway. Barely grown-up, true, but at the same time so... grown. Home for the first time after months in exile where Doran had to send him to calm Yronwoods while our mother was away, with something weighing him heavily and changing him on his shoulders. I didn't know what it was then. I just looked at you, a babe in the cradle, and he said: This is your niece, Jaenna Nymeros Martell. It struck me. I knew bastards bear the name Sand, but you were Martell. I asked him. That's because her mother is a special woman, he said."  
Jaenna smiled. With genuine.  
"And she will be a special princess. And I understood what that weight was. Love. Please... don't let it swallow you too."

Some time later, princess tossed in her bed. She came back to her father and Rhaegar but excused soon after and fell into a restless sleep in the ostensible safety of her chambers.  
But this time, she didn't stand behind a wall of flames. This time, nothing protected her. She stood in front of a dragon. Huge and horrifying, with big purple eyes and silver scaly head. Blazing waves of his breath flooded through her and she felt her skin turning red. Yet, she couldn't make a single step. A large dragon's mouth slowly started to open. She spotted a flash of fire between his teeth as long and sharp as daggers. She wanted to step aside. The heat was bigger with every moment. Blisters emerged on her arms and the shivering air around her chimed with the rumble of the flames in the beast's throat. It hurt. She wanted to run. But she couldn't. She couldn't move. And felt blood.  
Rumble changed into a roar.  
And the dragon swallowed her.


	12. Chapter 12

_**First of all, Amarlerys had a problem with timing. I don't know how to write it better than it already is. You wrote review for the first chapter. The very first sentence there states: "I had to change the age of some characters. Oberyn has to be few years older - … on the beginning of Robert's rebellion ... at least 32, rather more." So if you'd be so nice and really read this, you'd know. And the age of Jaenna? It's mentioned in the story two or three times. I changed it just for the possibility for him to have 16 years old daughter. But in fact, it's not so problematic, Obara is now almost 30 in cannon and Oberyn had to be very young when she happened, because I used the age of Sand snakes as in cannon. So just read. And the rest of you, enjoy.**_

* * *

"But... your Grace... by strengthening relationships, I didn't mean this..."  
"He is right, Aerys, please, don't do this. It is not a good idea."  
"Silence, woman! What are you even doing here, when men talk? Go make embroidery or something!" the King immediately objected and flashed a look full of disgust towards his wife. He didn't trust her, she knew that. He was expecting a betrayal from her, moreover when she dared to oppose him. Most of the time, he simply hated her, although she was his Queen. But it no longer meant more than the crown in her silvery hair. And long gone were the times when would she protest that she had a name. Now she just collected her skirts and hastily left his solar.

That man, a spy of lord Connington or her husband, should have never go to him. He should have never bring him that stupid and in fact absurd message. But how could he know that her "beloved" Aerys would hatch such solution? She thought she's safe. Everything's all right. She assured herself for sixteen years that no threat was hanging over their heads. After all, if the spy came to her, she would wave it off. Viserys had always been more fierce than his brother and from when he understood he wouldn't become a king, he had even his hurt side. But his threats were idle and a note about his father burning Dorne uttered in the hallway meant nothing. However, the spy ran to the King and he, like everything in last years, put it to a bigger picture painted by his paranoid mind.

He connected this innocent menace made by his little son with the fact, that princess Elia was weak and the kingdom didn't like her. Or he assumed because he didn't like her. Due to the very same weakness. He linked it to more recent need to avoid riots or directly rebellion and strengthen relationships with Martells and always insecure Dorne. Bind them to him so they wouldn't have the opportunity to protest.

So he let drag Rhaella and summoned lord Connington into his solar and heard out precisely what he wanted to hear. That there still was a drop of Targaryen blood of princess Daenerys who brought them into the realm in Martells and that mother of this one princess was a noblewoman from Lys, where valyrian blood still flowed strongest and purest of all Free Cities. Rhaella just cast down her eyes with sadness, but he didn't notice. She was like another piece of furniture to him. Furniture by day and plaything by night. Then he just remembered troubles with finding the bride for Rhaegar until he ended up with Elia Martell and his decision was unchangeable, as always when he made his mind. He flatly announced to her and lord Hand, that he would not allow another defiance, this time of Dorne. And that a half-lysene was still better than years of futile searching. Moreover, Tywin Lannister might want to dig his claws into him again and that terrified him so much that he was willing to accept even the craziest precautions. His old friend suddenly became his worst rival and Aerys would do anything to insure himself against him.

Then she couldn't do a thing. He had never listened to her. Her opinion had never been wanted. Her beloved King didn't need her to talk. He appreciated if she knew when to be silent and when to scream. Not that it was difficult to guess the right moment. And when he brushed off the table even objections of his Hand, it was decided.  
True, it all could end way worse and anyone else would maybe accept such thing with joy and pride, but not her. Not her children. No more madness. No more pain in which this would surely end.

She closed the door of her bedroom behind her and knelt by her bed. She prayed to the Crone to enlight him for once, for one time in his life, and not let him bring another blight. Just for once and she would endure any price needed to pay for such favor.

If Tywin was there, maybe he still would convince him. Regardless their hostility, he knew how to slide him thoughts. But even Tywin had no faith in his King and was rather hiding under the Rock, mourning his wife. In his stead, Jon Connington, who could only fearfully stutter, stood by King's side along with Gerold Hightower. The King never met anyone without the presence of his loyal guards and when there was only one knight next to him, it wasn't evidence of doing justice to formalities, but only of his sureness that she was not able to kill him by herself yet.

She looked for disapproval even in Gerold's eyes. To reassure herself how insane it was. But she found nothing, just emptiness. How could she not, he was lord commander of the Kingsguard and the Kingsguard didn't judge the King. Whether would he command anything, his guard obeyed. She knew that very well. They were always obeying. Always listening. And never had done anything. She hated them for it. Sometimes, in the dead of the night, when she heard them changing on their posts, she wanted to strip their hypocritical white cloaks and smother them with it. Let them choke with their pride when they didn't want to protect the truly defenseless. But once she saw pity in the eyes of young Jaime Lannister and she couldn't hate him. She was able just pity him herself.

And that couldn't happen again. Not to her children. She prayed and begged the Crone to lead them. And Mother to protect them where she had no word.  
Viserys was the last remaining. The last they didn't steal from her. She had to pay too many times and little was so cruel as to pay with one's child. She wasn't willing to do it again and she knew it would end that way. Madness would steal her dear one like eventually every time in the history of her house as far as she could see. She couldn't allow it, not her children. She lost so much. It was cruellest almost seventeen years ago when she learned the meaning of love. It had to be, she knew, it was the price for being Rhaella Targaryen, but now it should come to naught?  
Let the Crone lead them. Mother protect them. Maiden give them strength weather it all. Both of them. And her pay anything the gods would put upon her. Just if they wouldn't be deaf.

Suddenly, the door clicked in the silence and Rhaella heard his shuffling steps. The same that she used to hear every evening when he came unannounced to her bedroom. So this was what they wanted from her? This was what did they prepare for her? As long as the gods would hear her... so be it. She bowed her head and started to untie the lacing of her corset. It was her favorite dress. She didn't want him to rip it again.

Jaenna was untying the loosened lacing on her tunic. She didn't wear stiff corsets, especially when she had no choice than pulling out her breeches with long, almost transparent tunic again, but she had lacing on both sides to fix the tunic by her figure.  
But her fingers were still like tangled and she noticed she only made it worse. They shook so much, that it would be faster to rip the lacing off, and her chest was still rising and falling due to the scant of breath as she headlessly hurtled to her chamber. And then she just let it fall with frustration when she noticed one torn decorative lace that originally held her bodice. She didn't even realize he did this...

While she wanted to do only innocent practice. She needed to clear her head after that oddly finished dinner and even more odd dream, that refused to leave her in the morning and still remained her a huge dragon and burning heat. She didn't want to meet anyone, so she sneaked out and headed to the armory the already well-known way. She carefully slipped around the barracks and in the big gate, from where she wended directly to the stored bows. She chose one of them, maybe the same that ser Jaime had given her, she didn't remember, picked up quiver with arrows and went to the practice yard, where no one hindered yet. She knew it wold be soon full of people, so she chose one pleasantly shadowed corner, where she could spend some time undisturbedly and alone. Yet she didn't mind how long were she there. She just shot one arrow by one, when she used all of them she pulled them out of the target and shot once more. It wasn't such fun as with Jaime, but she had to concentrate, co she had no time to think about anything else. About the weird dreams with fire and dragons, the heat all around. It was searing. It brought her pain and hurt her, but at the same time, it was inside of her, filled her and in the moment when the dragon swallowed her, it exploded from everything she could ever feel.

She shuddered when she remembered and kept her bow to the ground because now she had the feeling like someone was watching her. But when she looked around, nothing. Only one Dornishman by the pillar in the arcade pretending he's not there. The closest guard she allowed after her father recommended not to roam here on her own, so he followed her once she left her chamber and found some place to watch her and grant her some privacy at once. But he didn't cause that feeling. She knew about him. Therefore, she was still practicing for a while, thought it didn't stop. Was someone watching from one of the windows? But she didn't see anyone even there. At first, she told herself, that it's an echo of her dream and she's crazy, but then she realized, someone could be hiding before her eyes behind thick walls and curtains, so she rather packed all arrows and stole away, back to the armory, in the shadow alongside the wall.

This time, the yard wasn't empty, so she hoped no one would notice her. She certainly wasn't thrilled about the idea of another soldier popping next to her, but it seemed, that everyone was interested in food or avoiding the hot sun in the varied armor for now.  
She hung the bow on its place and put the quiver beneath it. She really missed her own, varnished and double-curved. Even if this one wasn't bad. And then she felt it again. Someone was watching.  
She turned around and jumped with shock.

"M...my prince, you..."  
"Princess," he bowed, gently took her hand and kissed her.  
She should run. In that very moment. Tell him what was she talking about with Elia. That she shouldn't look at him like that and he couldn't look at her like that. That she, in fact, didn't understand what was suddenly happening to her. And that she didn't like it. But would she be telling the whole truth? She wasn't sure and that was probably the reason she didn't run. That was the reason she replied he frightened her and asked whether was he watching her.

"It's not really common to see a woman with a weapon here."  
"Everyone keeps saying that here," she tried to say, but she realized too well he didn't let her hand go. So she tried to say, that what happened yesterday was improper and neither of them was in the position allowing... but she probably didn't say even that. Despite all reassurances, all she said and convinced herself about, there was something drawing her to him so strongly, that she couldn't. She was like besotted. Like he bewitched her. And she barely took a breath to another word, maybe reply to something she didn't hear anyway, and again felt his lips. And not only lips.

The warmth was waking up in her and when Rhaegar's hands touched her, she felt even a slowly rising heat that burned her at night. She bumped into the stoney wall without noticing that she was moving. His hands didn't leave her and his lips were still sweeter and bolder. And then it was hard to remember anything.

The blaze flooding her face, neckline and the whole body. Scorching fervour radiating from her. The rush of fire and rush of blood in her ears. Silver. Heat. And dragon. She closed her eyes and, all of sudden, returned into her dream. She couldn't move, she felt like she wasn't breathing, until the pain torn the rumble of flames and after that, the frightening and undue delight in the moment they swallowed her. And then, she was sure for a heartbeat, Rhaegar knew that. That he saw the same. That he felt the same. That he was there.

A heartbeat, half of the day, half of the eternity or whole? She had no idea, it felt like the whole life. But her guard didn't say a word when she returned, it couldn't be so long. Did she really spend only a little while there? As if the prince put a spell on her.  
And he had to tear the lace on her bodice and she didn't notice. Only the flaring fire, only the roar of blood.

She quickly changed into the airy dress for Aegon's feast, even if she didn't want to. She already had it for the dinner and risked to destroy it until tomorrow evening, but to parade around in a tattered tunic would raise suspicion. She again regretted that she packed so little clothes, but who could think that she would ruin other dresses or throw them away stinking after the raid? She should at least find some... Annara, she realized. She should give them to Annara and tell her to let clean the dark one. Actually, she remembered that she should summon Annara. Her hair had to be in the same chaos she felt herself. In the end, wouldn't be the better option just find Mina Tyrell or Redwyne or whatever and persuade her how much she desired to meet Willas? It would solve a lot. And perhaps she would forget the silver and red and instill how miserable thing she did once and for all.

Gods, what did she do? And where was remorse? Why she still felt like in a dragon's grip from which she didn't want to escape? Of which she didn't fear? Which she felt so clearly... just touch herself was enough. She was so sensitive and tender. She could touch herself with her own fingers and still see him. And the flood of silver. But for now she simply sent for Annara and it was the right choice.

Because a few moments later, after she calmed enough to not let the younger girl notice and fix her hair without remarks, she heard knocking. At first, she was convinced it's lady Tyrell... or Redwyne and gods sent her the answer, but no lady, not her father, no Dornishman or perhaps Varys entered when prompted. A man with blonde waves and green eyes. He looked handsome in his shiny armor at the first sight. Like a proud lion which he should be. His membership in the Kingsguard was really a shame. She had never seen Willas, but Jaime Lannister looked like someone she could consider. Whom she would let taste her.  
Until she looked at him the second time and noticed his nervous face. But why should he be nervous? They already met. And she could hardly humble him more than already did, so he had no reason to fear.

"Ser Jaime?"  
"The King requests your presence."  
Jaenna froze. Almost petrified on the spot. The heat and desire were forgotten. The King? Why would the King want to see her? Gods, someone had to reveal him what happened. Did someone come to the armory and even that one moment was too much? Would he punish her for Rhaegar's kisses? Or for that brutish soldier, whom would she almost dismiss in the light of the latest events? Varys assured her the King had more important concerns, however, why would he summon her now? Outside the meeting of the court?

"M... mine?"  
Jaime nodded.  
"Yes. In his solar, he is awaiting you... with the Queen and he also called for your father."  
So it really had to be something serious. And what else did she do than the mutilation of king's soldier and involving with his own son? She remembered with dread what stories she used to hear about king's wrath and people defying him or seen as enemies. What end did they face.  
"What's going on? What did I... that soldier?" she tried with a faint voice.  
Jaime took a breath.  
"Please, come. He wants to see you immediately. And..." he paused, "just... don't oppose him. Rather do as he says."

* * *

 _ **Here we are, not far from the grand finale. And for everyone who would want to complain that it's not really clear what happened between Jaenna and Rhaegar, it's intentional. Something happened, but every one of you has to decide what do you see in that.**_


	13. Chapter 13

She tried to force the young knight to tell her, why did the King summon her, but Jaime always shook his head and they reached the doors guarded by another unknown guard too soon to break him and make him talk. In the end, he just opened it but didn't enter. He closed the doors behind her and stood next to that guard and Jaenna could only make some careful steps inside the room full of people.

The Queen, presumably, when she was the only woman inside, was turned to the glazed fireplace and her father stood next to another guard, who stared blankly. She didn't know him or the one next to the King. Whatever it was, they clearly intended to leave her uncle out. And the King himself sat in a chair at a big table and passed over her with his eyes and apparently not with a big pleasure.

"She doesn't look like a Lyseni," he growled somewhere behind him and Jaenna found out, there's even lord Connington. She didn't see him since their arrival and his fight with her father, but she couldn't mistake his red hair.  
"Her mother was from Lys," the lord Hand nodded to her father to his defence. Jaenna looked at him and he frowned and nodded back. He didn't like what was going on. And that didn't bode well.  
"Very well," the King snarled. "I hope it will do. When time comes, you will give Viserys the right, strong children. The right ones, no dornish scum. But there is time to that. On the morrow, we announce the betrothal to the court, let it be finally done and settled at once."

Jaenna goggled at him. Did he really just said he betrothed her and Viserys? That small brat who told her she would burn? Her? Twice his age? She looked at her father again, but he seemed more glum and shortly and reluctantly bowed his head. Even he didn't dare to oppose. He had heard so much about mad Aerys, that he didn't dare to say a word. And now, it was probably the right time to put all her stubbornness aside even for her and hide behind a common courtesy to please this wizened, gaunt and for eyes truly frightening monarch.  
"I will be immensely honored, Your Grace," therefore she proclaimed, though her face didn't imply any honor nor pleasure.  
"Sure, sure. But Viserys is not of age yet, the wedding must wait and until then, you will be-"

But Jaenna didn't listen to him anymore. He grabbed his Queen Consort's hand and dragged her to his side, perhaps to add more importance to his statement or to whatever he meant, so she was forced to turn from the fireplace and Jaenna was hit by another shock. Maybe stronger one.  
She desperately looked around the solar, sought any support, anything that would tell her it's only a dream, this day never happened, she didn't stand in front of the King and it's not real. But she found nothing, looked at the Queen again and her knees buckled.  
That face.  
That face from her dream.  
Face of her mother.

"-with the prince is a great responsibility and you won't shame him like that, even if I shall-"  
She didn't perceive the King's litany at all. She didn't perceive anything of his threats and commands and forget even Viserys for a little while. Her mother. The Queen. The woman, who appeared in Water Gardens once in a long time, cuddled her and kissed her, only to disappear again. The woman, who wasn't dead as her father said. And who wasn't from Lys. The Queen. She couldn't be wrong. She thought she had forgotten her face, but once she saw her, it came back. With her touches and soft voice. It was all a lie. A huge lie capable of destroying the kingdom. Her father... the Queen... and now they wanted to marry her... but that meant Viserys was her brother! Like... Gods, like Rhaegar.

Suddenly, everyone in the solar was blurred. The King became a big, dark streak, Queen's sorrowful look disappeared as well as the lonely tear running down her cheek, and she only felt her father's hand on her shoulder. He clenched his other hand into a fist to hold a stone face. He knew how cruel would be the outcome, would he intervene, but it tore him all the same. He didn't want it. He didn't want to let her to this madness and pass Rhaella's sight. And a greenish bruise peeping out of her sleeve. The proof Aerys harmed her again.

While everything worked perfectly until now. It wasn't easy or without a price, but they were safe. He had never imagined, that the whole secret would turn against them so cruelly. Aerys should had never have a reason to confront Jaenna. In Rhaella's presence. Even worse, Jaenna recognized Rhaella, he was sure. That's why she shuddered and petrified. And he had to prevent her to show it. She looked like she would collapse or scream and it could cost them their heads. She had to be strong. Had to get a grip. Unbowed, unbent, unbroken. Unbroken. He would find a way, but now it couldn't get worse.

"Ha? Connington, if you dragged here some deaf or stupid girl, you will take the responsibility for all your advice!" the King gimbled and impatiently tapped the armrest. Of course, he already forgot, that his Hand advised the opposite.  
But Jaenna didn't realize in that moment, that he was asking about something. She had no clue about what. She still couldn't tear her eyes from the Queen, even if she barely saw her, how she desperately tried to not let tears left her eyes.  
"I will do everything to the satisfaction of you and dear prince Viserys, Your Grace," she squeezed out of herself without thinking whether it's the answer he wanted to hear. She just wanted him to let her go. She had to go. And the King luckily let her, when he waved his hand.  
"Go. I expect you to look more suitable at the court."

However, when she wanted to curtsy and go, she found out her father didn't leave her. And the Queen spoke. That voice... the voice that smiled with her and that she heard screaming in her wild dragon dream... dragon. Really, she was a dragon. Gods be good.  
"Your Grace... it's a custom to arrange a marriage with the father. And in the case of such highborn ladies with the lord of the kingdom, so prince Doran would-"  
"Silence, woman!" the King snapped at her and Jaenna felt her father's fingers digging into her arm. "Should that prince Doran of yours have some objections? Or her father?" he looked directly at Oberyn, who had to bow and reply:  
"We are very honored, it is more that my daughter could ever wish."  
He had to say this words. And in a certain sense, it was more that she could ever wish. Because she didn't wish that. But Jaenna also realized, he didn't add any compliment like lords who tried to keep more powerful people in a good mood. Nothing about generosity or kindness. No. He didn't see that this way.  
"It is, naturally," Aerys replied and waved at them once more, so they finally left his solar. And as soon as the door behind them clicked in place, Jaenna yanked and ran.

She didn't heed the looks of Jaime and the second unknown guard, didn't notice the wide eyes of servants, vigorously pushed the guard at her chamber aside and jumped inside. But didn't stop there. She opened her chest and started to throw all things that came to her hand into it. A brush, ribbons, tunic, one riding boot, a bottle with a scented oil, another brush... she even didn't notice what was she throwing. She just meant to pack immediately. She didn't think about anything else.  
"What are you doing? Wait, stop!" she heard her father's voice behind her, he probably finally caught her, but she ignored it. She threw a second riding boot into the chest, snapped the cover down, then opened it again and added her breeches.  
"Come on. Stop!"  
She didn't. She closed the chest again, locked it with the rhoynish sun, shoved her head under the bed and pulled out her second, smaller chest with her dragon egg. She opened it to see whether everything was in place. She wasn't even sure she was breathing, she just wanted to run away. Far away. She took the egg and meant to get up, but then felt like something stripped a veil of panic off her, exhaled and stayed on her knees. And leant her forehead on her high bed and refused to look at Oberyn. Maybe the egg. Maybe it forced her to stop and think. Let everything fall into place and tears down her cheeks.

"Jaenna..."  
"What should I wait for? How could you?"  
"I've never wanted to-"  
"Never wanted to? You lied to me! Why did you never tell me the Queen is-"  
"Be quiet!" he shouted immediately and knelt beside her when she gave a lurch and started to cry more.  
"I am sorry. It was for your safety. If anyone found out, we all could lose our lives."  
"Really? A lot of people must know but me! Servants and maesters and Doran... uncle surely knows, right?!"

Oberyn inhaled and exhaled slowly.  
"Come here. Sit. Perhaps I should explain to you a long time ago, but I hoped I would never have to. That lie was too easy and smooth, until now... come."  
He raised her and let her to a comfortable window seat padded with pillows. He settled her there and stand a chair against her.  
"Why did you tell me she is dead?"  
"I had to give you some reason, why she won't come to you anymore."  
"Then, she should never come. And I would not know!" Jaenna stretched her legs to the opposite side of the window in a very unladylike way and looked down. There was a bay behind a narrow stony escarpment and several ships were leaving it. Merchants, according to their size and shape. One of them had a big grape cluster of Arbor on its sail and another one Titan's head. She would prefer to be on their board.  
"She loves you. She wanted to be seeing you."  
"And that's why you told me all this lies? That's why you said she's Lyseni?"

"Partly," Oberyn nodded after a while of thinking. "If I declared you as my bastard and brought you to our court, there would be questions. And not just from you. And if I wanted to legitimize you, they would be even more urgent. But when I proclaimed your mother my Lyseni wife too sick to care for you and visit you more often, no one asked, only for decency's sake. And we had no assurance that you would be dark-haired. We just knew you would have to be hidden in Dorne, otherwise, you wouldn't be safe. That you have to stay with me."  
"So I..." Jaenna frowned a little and tried to rethink it, "am... truly a bastard."  
She was afraid for years that they were hiding it from her. That tales about her mother were nothing more than tales. Was she right?

But to her surprise, Oberyn shook his head.  
"How not?"  
After all, her mother was the Queen. A married woman. And no one had legitimized her. They called her Martell but that's not enough.  
"I was very young then. And doted. To her. And she... we were just stupid. We knew what were we doing, in what position she was, but she wasn't happy and I, in that moment, only wanted to make her happy at least for some time."  
"But yet-"  
"Her ancestors married multiple times in history. And she, with... mind full of emotions... concluded, that if they could, why not even she. Just because she's a woman?"  
In that moment, Jaenna looked at him with wide eyes and sat up straight against him.  
"So you are still married to... aren't you?"  
Oberyn nodded.

"It hurts to see what is happening to her and know I can do nothing. Even if I am me, I would never... she doesn't deserve this. And believe me, she was happy then. He," he hinted because he didn't want to say "King", although if someone listened to them, he would know, "was away almost for a year in a row. And she sailed for Dragonstone, where a smaller garrison and more trustworthy maester were. Then she announced a stillborn princess and a ship with screaming cargo landed in Dorne. Doran already knew. I was a fool in love, but I understood consequences, so I asked him for help. It was more difficult with our mother, so I hoped he would think out something. Therefore, at first, we tried this story on her before I admitted the truth, and Doran decided we take you. You were a princess and you were Martell."  
"But... he could say I am not in the eyes of Gods. Something like this never happened."

"Who could say? You are Nymeros Martell. Your mother was noblewoman from Lys. Everyone who knows my eldest daughter knows that. Doran likes you and why should anyone question it? Everything should stay like this. She came occasionally in secret and no one had any suspicion. I or Doran made sure every time, that her visit would be in a complete secrecy in Water Gardens. Except us and our mother, only a maester who had come with you knew the truth and he won't talk," Oberyn assured her. When she was born, he was still in exile. But Doran wisely kept that old man in Water Gardens and he later took care of cutting his possible threat.  
"But then he decided to pay more attention to his undeserved wife and that was the end. She couldn't break loose again."  
"Gods..."

Jaenna was shaking her head. So her father married the Queen of Seven Kingdoms because he fell in love with her and she decided, that if her ancestors were allowed to have several wives at once, she could have two husbands? And then... they convinced everyone, that her child died and the real one sent to Dorne to play a lovely princess with dying mother in the Free Cities? And she would maybe never find out if she didn't persuade her father to take her to the Aegon's feast? How Oberyn-like!

"But that would mean, that... Viserys is my brother! And I can not... I will not marry him anyway, I can't! He is still a child and mean one. And you just stood there and did nothing, you let him command this..."  
"What should I do, according to you? Refuse and get us both to the dungeons?"  
He was no coward. But even the biggest fool knew the volatile borders of Aerys' patience and Jaenna was woman grown now. She have to know too.  
"I won't marry him. Anyone but... we can say, uncle already promised me!" she jumped on her feet when this occurred to her. Oberyn took a breath to stop her, but she didn't let him.  
"Willas Tyrell perhaps, when his aunt tries to bait me. And you said something about Tullys. Gods, we can say, that Robert negotiated marriage for his beloved Stark, even for Stannis, despite even he wouldn't be naive enough!"  
Recently, she was afraid, Robert could come with such idea, but now, with the choice between one of them and Viserys, she had not much to think about. Moreover, she didn't plan a real wedding. Just to claim she was betrothed to someone else when her family was so versed in lying about their other halves!

"Hold on, Jaenna, please, hold on. That is not possible. If we used it now, the King would look through this trick and get offended as well as if we refused him. And I know you wouldn't be happy with neither of them, therefore I've never answered Tullys and never even considered men from such distance like Riverlands or North. I didn't want to let you suffer with some barbarian. And as for Willas Tyrell, he is good man, but I am probably the only one, who would shrugged it off without noise."  
He and Doran reflected only dornish lords so far. They considered them a safe choice. But they didn't have any candidate even among them. Oberyn valued house Qorgyle, but its heirs were too young, and Doran spoke on the behalf of Yronwoods, but Oberyn rejected them immediately. Not entirely because they used to be oppressing kings, more because of his old affair with Edgar's paramour and his murder in combat. They could still want to hold it against her. And he was in no hurry. He would prefer for Jaenna to choose someone. But they hadn't the whole eternity and he realized, they shouldn't bicker so long. They agreed, that to arrange a simple life of dornish lady was the only option, but when they finally started to do something about it, all their plans and safe walls around them collapsed.

"So... you will let me suffer with a spoiled child? Here? In this nasty pit?"  
"I want no such thing."  
"And what do you want? He will announce it tomorrow. In front of all court. You know very well, that the feast in Aegon's honor is in the evening, so everyone important will be here. And he will blazon it in front of them. It will be irreversible!"  
"It's the decision of the King. But we won't have one king forever," he replied quietly the only thing he relied on. He didn't like Rhaegar's interest in Jaenna, especially when he was his brother-in-law, but on the other hand, he knew Rhaegar would be much better and reasonable king opened for discussion. It shouldn't be a problem for him to sit on the Iron Throne and renounce this ridiculous betrothal. He would still have several years when Aerys confirmed delay of the wedding until Viserys would grow. He didn't need haste. He just wanted to bring Dorne to its knees, wait for Jaenna to offend his betrothed somehow and strike. Oberyn knew this games enough and to spare. And he couldn't let him.

"Do you think when Rheagar...? But he..." it didn't seem wise to rely on him for Jaenna. What if Aerys would rule another twenty years? What if something would happen to the prince? And what if... after what happened between them...  
"I want to go home..." in the end, she leant on Oberyn's chest and it didn't matter to her whether she looked more like a hurt kitten than a famous snake-cub. Dragon-cub. Dragon. The Others take it all!


	14. Chapter 14

_**For the Guest: I have no intention to make a love triangle Rhaegar, Jaenna and Jaime. Actually, I don't think there is any love, it's not really romance. I just love book Dorne and I wanted to make my own version of rebellion with my own character. See if I can do that.  
**_ _ **Jaenna is clearly infatuated with Rhaegar, she's confused, young, he's „sexy" according to today's ideals in my head, but she had no love interest in Jaime. But she is Dorniswoman, Oberyn's daughter, so she is used to admit, when someone is hot or that she would flirt with him. They have more loose and open manners. But she would probably never do something about Jaime. She likes his look, but she doesn't know him or care about him more. He was like... nice distraction. Moreover, she would have no time, because here starts my favorite part (the next will be even better) and I'm most exited to find what do you think!**_

* * *

Jaenna didn't feel rested at all in the morning. While she got up in time and slowly started to prepare herself for the court, she was like in a daze. She kept waking up at night, couldn't fall asleep and her father didn't calm her either. He promised to take her home. He promised he wouldn't let anything happen to her. That everything would be all right. As he had been promising always, when she was afraid. When she was still a child and afraid of waves or when she didn't want to let him leave for another journey. But now she wasn't a child anymore and understood he could do nothing. He wouldn't protect her. Once the King determined she would marry his princeling, she would have to stand next to him, smile happily and just honestly hope, that Rhaegar would find himself on the throne sooner than she in Viserys' bed. Oh, Rhaegar.

She shouldn't think about him at all. Rhaegar. Her uncle-in-law. She should feel terrible! Not enchanted by his aura of perfection with no way to resist and... she felt a huge bubble of mixed thoughts growing in her, filling her, inflating and finally cracking and cried out. No, it was something between scream and growl. Then she grabbed a pillow lying on a chair and threw it against her dressing-table with a mirror, so she tumbled down everything on it. But it wasn't enough. She cried out again and overturned that chair. Only it wasn't helping either.

She kicked a chest with her clothes by her bed, grabbed her blanket, stripped it and started to pummel the mattress until she finally grabbed another pillow, pressed it to her face to dim her voice and screamed her lungs out. Then she dropped on her knees, leaned her forehead on the mattress and began to cry. However, that enraged her even more, because she didn't want to cry. She didn't want to shed a single tear because of some stupid royal family and even more because she herself behaved stupidly. Like she wasn't herself! Therefore, she punched a wooden frame with both fists as hard as possible, then screamed again, this time due to the pain, because she felt a sharp pain in all fingers. And then someone opened the door.

He didn't say anything. Just raised her and sat on the bed. It was easy for him. He was expecting an angry aftermath, so it wasn't surprising to be awakened by his guard with a fear, that he heard noise from princess' bedroom. But he had no way to calm her. He searched for the eunuch Varys at the previous night, the smarmy master of whisperers, because his absence in King's solar was suspicious, but he didn't offer any help. The only thing he advised was patience, but patience with what? For what should he wait? He had doubts he knew about this decision at all, despite his pretending. Probably no one controlled the King anymore. Or could it be the work of the Hand instead of master of whisperers for once? He didn't have to be a genius to notice lord Connington's sincere hatred for Dornishmen, especially him, and his lack of enthusiasm about Elia as the wife of the crown prince and his friend. He had a clear notion about why, he learned to tell for whom one longed, even if they tried to hide it. That's why he, to his great displeasure, noticed the change in his daughter's behaviour whenever she got near the prince. But what would Connington earn by this? It didn't make any sense to him, so he accepted the most presumable option, the Aerys' shadowed mind. After all, he was once a witness of his promises to his mother, princess of Dorne, that he would let the Dornish desert bloom, a megalomaniacal speech of a fool, who clearly didn't think much about it. The more dangerous it could be.

"I can't, father. I won't do it. I won't go there."  
Her eyes were red, but she swallowed all further weeping. She wanted to be Jaenna again. She wanted to keep at least a bit of pride and to cry in front of her father, the Red Viper of Dorne, wasn't proud.  
"I believe we could get far away from this city before they would start to search for us and to care whether would I hurt Dorne is more Doran's field, but you would still be in a grave danger, though. You, Elia, even Rhaenys. Aerys could do anything if they found you. And anything if they didn't. Moreover, you would have to run until... we would probably have to disappear in the east."  
He almost didn't want to believe that he was saying what was he saying. Oberyn Martell was the one who was expected to poison the King and vanish at the other end of the world. And not that he wouldn't try, if it was just him. But even the Viper knew, when the risk wasn't worth it. Whether did he like it or not.

"So you want me to stand there and pretend joy when he announces the betrothal?"  
"Do I want it? No. I want to put you on a ship home and a spear through him for every stroke, every word against the ones I love. But I have no chance now."  
"So you do," Jaenna bitterly summed it up. He had no chance to pull her out of this corrupted city, so yes. She was meant to stand there and smile like her dream would come true.  
"For now. We will listen to his exact plans. I let summon that maid of yours to help you. You can do it, I know it. Don't forget who you are."  
"And who am I? The spear? Snake? Dragon?"  
She knew it was a stupid question. Her sisters had never had such problems and their mothers were a diverse mixture of all women. And they weren't seeing them for years, too. Obara even never from her arrival to Dorne and she swore she wouldn't in the future either. Not that it would be difficult, her mother died in the end. But they knew very well what they were. No one was hiding it from them.  
"You are whoever you feel to be."

Great, she thought. I am a stupid, scared child. But then she considered it again. If she felt like a stupid, scared child, she would behave like that as well. She would be a stupid, scared child. He was right. She would withstand this and then she would find a way. She would find a way out. There was always some. Once she asked her septa, what's a way out of a marriage for an unhappy lady. Her septa told her that lady has to respect her husband until gods take them. That there's no other way. Even she was right, Jaenna realized a few years later. Death and gods were a way. But she didn't see any reason why would they have to take the lady. And that was the thinking of the proper snake again.

She dressed the dress for Aegon's feast. She didn't care the King didn't look good at it. It was the best she brought and one of the most opulent she owned. Then she added a massive golden bracelet shaped like a snake wrapped around her wrist and let Annara braid her hair and pin a golden coronet on top of it. She looked in the mirror for a while and tried to imagine silver hair instead of her dark one. Would she and her mother be alike? And what life it would be, if she really looked like Targaryen? Her father would have probably never brought her here. But she didn't look like them, so it didn't matter.

"Annara, am I pretty?"  
"You... are beautiful, my princess."  
"Good. Today's court will be very important and I have to look accordingly."  
She purposely didn't say she wanted to. She remembered King's words, but she personally didn't care.  
Rhaegar would be there, surely. How would he look like? But... even that shouldn't matter. He was her uncle-in-law. And was going to be her brother-in-law. Brother-in-law of her father. And her aunt her sister-in-law. She clenched her teeth to keep her stony expression.  
"You look really beautifully," Annara genuinely assured her, Jaenna looked askance at her and uttered a sight.  
"I hope so," she said and dismissed Annara. Then she bent under her bed and put her chest with her dragon egg on the mattress. Once this all would be over, she would need quick reassurance and she didn't want to hunt the egg somewhere on the ground. And to clean all this mess... she would let Annara do it after her return, she thought. Because she had no idea it was the last time she spoke to her.

She didn't go to the Throne Room alone but with her father. She guessed that her place was still by his side during formal occasions and that she would need him. Maybe he would have to hold her and prevent her from running. She just hoped Viserys wouldn't be there. She didn't want to see him. It still didn't make sense to her. She would be in the age when the unmarried women without children were considered spinsters till he would reach adulthood. And child-bearing years would fly the faster by the side of the husband whom would she almost consider a child and whom would she hardly welcome in her bed. Not that she thought about children, but she had always seemed family natural. However, not like this. Who would want to expose his own son such problems? Especially the prince?

And she was also little scared of how many people were already gathered there. The King was nowhere in sight and the Iron Throne was empty so far. She didn't even see the Queen yet. Her mother. Although, lord Connington stood near the steps to the throne and people thronged on both sides of the aisle to them. She didn't notice their sigils or colors. Some of the people at the end maybe hadn't any and she strode next to her father to the front, anyway. No one found it strange. She was one of the highest nobles here and they had their place in the front rows, just next to the petitioners. But their number diminished during Aerys' reign and when even Tywin Lannister didn't rule in his stead, hardly anybody dared to bring his problems.  
They didn't know what was about to happen now.

She took a place with her father right in front of two shapely men. She didn't know them and didn't look at them, but she noticed their unusually warm and bulky clothes. Probably from the North. At first, it occurred to her, whether was one of them that Robert's famous Ned Stark because Robert would surely not miss the opportunity to get drunk from the royal pocket, but when she shortly looked back, both of them seemed older than he should be. But who knew, who they really were. She didn't care. She rather looked in front of her. At the dragon skulls and hideous Iron Throne made from the blades of fallen opponents of Aegon the Conqueror. She was thinking whether was he as cruel and mad as Aerys. Stories about the conquest stated none of that. He burned armies and usurped someone else's kingdoms but also offered peace and gave titles even to the lords who fought him at first. Aerys would most likely burn them all.

She heard whispers around her, laugh and rustle of the fabric of splendid and less splendid dresses. Nobles from all realm gathered for Aegon's feast. If she faced the crowd, she would notice many roses, grape clusters and other gowns of the Reach, bushy hair of Stormlands and one or two falcons, twin castles, plowmen and more representatives of other kingdoms. Only golden lions were nowhere to see and even just the two of them remained for Dorne, except pregnant lady Ashara. Maybe some other lords of Dorne who should be there would come at the evening, for the feast. Maybe they didn't wanted to see a King who openly hated them.  
Her eyes fell on red-haired lord Connington again. She couldn't miss his sight full of bile. She had no idea what did she do to him. It was all their command, so why was he frowning now?

And then he finally showed. The whole room became silent and the King stoopingly climbed to the throne. He wasn't so old, but despite it, he seemed... used up. Gaunt, hunched and somehow venomously. No one was laughing now, only herald announced Aerys' titles. The King then disgustedly looked around the room as if he was seeing some annoying vermin. But Varys emerged from the crowd immediately. Jaenna didn't notice him before and actually didn't include him among the culprits of her situation. Only now she realized that his strange behaviour could mean something. He reported some simple matters to the King, something about a trade in Duskendale and tariffs in Oldtown, what the King waved off after a while and approved, and a plea of some lord, whose name she immediately dismissed, for help with mountain raiders. Aerys responded with growling, that they had barely dealt with Kingswood Brotherhood and should handle other savages, so he should help himself and call more people on his own. Then some man in a green cloak and red doublet knelt beneath the throne and cited a praising speech for king's generosity in a resolution of a land dispute with his neighbor, and several other, more or less praiseful or fawning people. No one hinted her betrothal yet.

In fact, he dealt with other matters - sorry, other matters were dealt with, mostly by Aerys' small council with Varys in the lead because it would be perhaps too bothering for the King, but no one mentioned her or Viserys. Lord Connington fidgeted and Jaenna found out she did too. Her mother, at whom she doggedly refused to look, fixed her with her eyes, but even she didn't say anything. Could they really forget it? It seemed so. Because everyone remained silent after the last petitioner and the King almost seemed ready to dismiss the court. But none of his counselors moved and he didn't understand what were they waiting for. Until the Grandmaester with a chain around his neck told with gritty voice:  
"The plans for the betrothal of our dear prince, Your Grace."

Jaenna frowned. That old man was sleazy and disgusting and now she felt like wring his neck.  
"Betrothal?" Aerys burst the question.  
"The negotiated betrothal with the princess... after yesterday conversation..." lord Connington started, but Aerys' forehead frowned even more.  
"Betrothal?" he repeated. "That forced nonsense? I know what you mean by that. To steal my son, I know, I tried you!"  
"But Your Grace..." the Hand bumbled, evidently on the edge. To steal his son? Wasn't he the one who came with this nonsense?  
"You wanted to push me to the wedding to let Martells steal my second son! You were plotting against me! Martells, Connington, even my own wife! And you all waiting here for me to fall into your trap!" he suddenly shouted.

Apparently, everyone kept staring at him. No one understood what's happening except Jaenna and Oberyn. But even Jaenna didn't fully figure out what was the King up to. Why did he accuse them all of sudden? But she felt her father squeeze her shoulder and tighten. Like a snake ready to attack. Or defense? Should any attack come? She was confused. Why should he think she wanted to steal Viserys?  
But the King evidently didn't notice the absurdity of his words.

"What are you waiting for! Take them! This is treason!" he yelled and pointed somewhere above their heads. He didn't tell who should they take, one part of the Kingsguard confusedly made a few steps forward, one of them, whom Jaenna remembered from yesterday meeting, and her uncle didn't move at all, while the guards standing by sides of the room went to the crowd. But no one knew who was the traitor and who was to be arrested. All of them?

Oberyn didn't wait any longer. Jaenna felt him dragging her away. She bumped into one of the big Northerners but didn't even stammer an apology. She looked around in panic, at other panicking people backing to the gate and the King red with anger.  
"What is happening? What... father, what's happening? Why... what is he talking about?"  
"I don't know. He had to go mad. Come," Oberyn answered and dragged her farther through the crowd. Two guards emerged right in front of them, but then the two northern lords blocked their way, Oberyn left Jaenna's shoulder, took her arm, turned and ran to the gate. Several people trying to escape the erupting chaos thronged around, Oberyn pushed through them and finally, they found themselves in the corridor.

But even there were guards, who heard chaotic voices and commands. They didn't know what's happening, but Aerys' roar "take them" was crystal clear. They couldn't stop. There were three guards and Jaenna heard them pulling their swords. They didn't have any, the King forbade armed men around him, save for his Kingsguard. Therefore, it was now a race for life between walls, corridors and frightened servants and it seemed lost more and more. Some other men had to join their chasers at any moment and then it would little matter how far could she run.

Oberyn probably realized that, because he suddenly shouted to go on, stopped and pulled his hidden dagger. He didn't come unarmed even despite the prohibitions. He intended to challenge them and give her some time. Therefore, she hesitated for a moment. She didn't want him to get hurt. Because of her. And if they should kill him, she would probably go insane as their King. Yet, she still ran. The fear of her own sake was stronger.

She knew she couldn't go to her chambers. It was the first place where they would search for her. She had to get away. Ideally to the stables, mount her horse and flee. Or to the city, for the time being, if she couldn't get to the stables. She hoped to find the right way. All corridors suddenly seemed the same. All windows. All doors and all galleries. They surely seized her father. He had only a dagger against three full armed guards. But she still ran.

Until a man with a seahorse embroidered across his chest appeared in front of her from behind a curtain. Apart from this sigil, he was dressed commonly, he was no lord, perhaps one of men of some guest, she didn't even trouble herself with thinking of which. She immediately braked and he denuded his sword.  
He was about to say something.  
Maybe to go with him.  
Maybe worse.  
But Jaenna instantly yanked a pointed, sharp pin whose short handle pictured the head of a coiled snake around her wrist and jumped for his throat.  
She stabbed him once, stabbed twice and felt his blood flow down her hand, spring on his collar and dripping on her dress. He just grabbed his neck in surprise but found only the pin stuck deep in his throat and then he dropped on his knees and on the ground. Jaenna stood above him with a red pin in her hand. She just killed someone.

"Gods, I always know when to come!" a booming voice sounded in front of her and Jaenna looked up with her pin ready to attack again. But to her surprise, she found out she was looking into the well-known face of Robert Baratheon.  
"Robert!" she cried out, jumped over that man still coughing up blood on the ground, grabbed her old fellow's hand and continued to run.  
"We have to go!"  
"What the seven hells is going on here?"  
"I don't know! They should announce my betrothal to Viserys and-"  
"Viserys?" Robert's eyebrow shot up into his wild hairs.  
"Viserys! And my mother... and the King's mad, he shouted out of nowhere that I wanna steal his son, it's treason and my father stayed there to slow them down and... we simply have to go!"  
"We?" Robert repeated like one of them was a simpleton and it wasn't clear who.  
"I don't know what about you," Jaenna blurted when they finally ran through one portal into the sunlight, "but I won't stay in this shitty place for another moment!"  
Robert suddenly began to laugh, as much as their sharp pace allowed him, and speeded up, so it was more like he was dragging her.

"We have to hide somewhere. I won't get out alive by the road and I have no money for a ship, I had nothing with me! We have to hide, I may sell this bracelet and that would pay possibly at least... sailing out the bay..."  
"Nonsense," Robert opposed. "I have a purse of gold and I know where to find sailors sailing off today. The best facility in the whole city."  
"Madam Chataya?" Jaenna gasped her guess, even if she could barely breathe. She definitely wasn't in such form as the young warrior. Bull-like warrior. But Robert slowed down a little and eyed her with surprise.  
"Well, I'm Red Viper's snakelet."

So she let him draw her into a brothel.  
They faced no trouble during their venture. The panic probably didn't spread beyond the walls of the Red Keep yet, the guests were maybe still wrestling in the Throne Room and tried to avoid King's wrath, part of his guards was probably searching the castle and the rest of them perhaps still tried to figure out who was the traitor now. If only her father got out. She hoped with her whole heart, that he beat the guards, but why would he not catch her up then? But... he was still prince from Dorne. Brother of the ruler of Dorne. They couldn't seriously harm him. Only, on the other hand, this was Aerys. And he was really mad.

She entered the brick building stuck between many other in a decent and maintained street close behind Robert. They didn't run for a while already to not raise suspicion and Robert, he said to let everything look believable, wrapped his large arm around her waist. And kept sliding dangerously low with it, so she always had to smack him. But even that perhaps belonged to the atmosphere.

There was dimness inside and the air was thick with the smoke from the incense sticks. Jaenna got an idea what should this heavy scent cover and categorically tried not to look at all the hungry eyes around. But it was early, there were still more girls than men. Some of them were sitting around tables, playing cards, sipping from the cups and waiting for someone to notice them. Others were sitting on men's laps and flirted. Some were lying on the sofas along the wall, mostly with unlaced dresses to not cover anything that could lure the customers. And there were all of them. Pale blondes, freckly redheads and dark girls from overseas, ordinary girls from Flea Bottom and women pretending to be an ethereal mystery. One like that stood up from one table just when Jaenna looked to it and led some drunk man, who keenly stripped her almost transparent dress from her breasts, for his belt somewhere behind a dark curtain.

And then, scarcely a moment after their coming, a black woman in a colorful dress, oddly not much revealing, appeared next to them. Madam Chataya, Jaenna guessed.  
"Oh, my lord. I didn't know you are so sateless," she smiled brightly at Robert and straight, white teeth shone in her mouth.  
"I was heading elsewhere, but when man meets such beauty, what could be possibly more important?" Robert laughed with his typically booming manner, slapped Jaenna's butt, so she pinched him in return, and he added, that he wanted a private room. And pulled two golden dragons out of his purse at his waist.  
Chataya respectfully bowed and led them to the room upstairs. There was a big bed with canopy, closet and a small table and the door was firm and lockable. Only the window was small and looked like it's hard to open it.  
Robert shoved Jaenna inside, directly on the bed, and ordered Chataya, that he didn't wish to be disturbed. Then he closed the door and toppled next to Jaenna. She slapped him in the face when he toppled almost on her, but as if he didn't notice at all.

"Oooh, gods, that I call betrothal. Eloping through the city, stabbing some fuckers and sprawling in the best brothel within reach. What would the wedding be? I would like this with my Lyanna. She is a wild little thing like you."  
But Jaenna immediately got up and rolled her eyes.  
"That Lyanna of yours would hardly be excited about your brothel escapades. And don't paw me ever again. I have the reputation of the snake chopping off hands of men who touch me."  
"Is that so? And I heard you are poisoning them when they are not good enough," Robert grinned.  
"Stop it. We have to find a way out. Find someone trustworthy. They are maybe torturing my father right now and I'm hiding in a stinky brothel with someone unable to hold his breeches up!"  
"I can hold up more than just breeches. But if you want to remain innocent for that Viserys..." Robert grinned again. When they met, this girl was a polite little lady. Now, after several hunts and evenings with wine and drinking so much he even couldn't notice her state anymore, he understood, that she didn't watch her mouth among friends.  
"Fuck Viserys."  
"That's my girl," he laughed at her gravely uttered words, but then his smile froze on his lips. There was a blow. No scabrous knock, no hollow punch when some drunk staggered, but harsh blow right in the middle of the wooden desk of the door.

Robert jumped to his feet. He looked at it apprehensively, reached to his waist for his short sword, that he still had because he didn't attend the court, and pushed Jaenna behind him.  
There was another blow and someone shouted to open the door.  
Then another one. And the wood gave up.


	15. Chapter 15

_**This is my favorite chapter and I was reeeealy excited to write it. It's not long, but it's dark. Cruel. Fire and blood. End of the bigger part, end of peace. And I really hope you'll like it, tell me, review! And remember, it's not the last one. (But I don't know when there will be next, because I'm starting to work in a law office and that takes a lot of time – or energy, if not time.)**_

* * *

She had no idea how did Robert end. She remembered blood and clashes and she didn't doubt, that he gave them a hard time, but then, finally, they dragged her kicking, clawing and screaming out. Someone smashed the pin out of her hand before she could use it, ruffianly seized her, slammed into the wall and handcuffed her. And when she didn't stop kicking, they tied her legs and carried her out of the establishment. What did they do to Robert, she didn't see. She even didn't learn how did they find them so quickly.

It had to be a great show for the commoners, whores and visitors. A lot of curious faces and naked bodies immediately emerged and didn't drop out, because they knew they weren't the one in danger. That the king's guards wanted just this one. And what about outside, when one of the guards roughly grasped her and threw he on a horse like she was some bag of oats? Although, she gave him no other choice. At first, he wanted to sit her, to hold her but still respect her status. But when she bit him, he had no regards. And she had to suffer the whole demeaning way to the Red Keep, in everyone's eyes, handcuffed and dragged like the worst criminal. Alas, according to the King, she was one.

She also heard more than enough. What a bitch she was. How popular would be the story about them dragging her out of a brothel. She didn't doubt, they would add a few bits and pieces. Maybe that she was naked, maybe writhing underneath the lord of the Storm's End, maybe that she tried to seduce them. And she also didn't doubt, they were disappointed it didn't happen for real. She didn't hesitate to respond them at first. Sent them to hells, curse them and finally regale them with more peppery words, until one of them silenced her by a properly acrid slap on her cheek and the second one on her bottom. She rather shut up. She could provoke even worse things while she was at their mercy. They could decide why to lie when they could easily take her to some narrow alley or abandoned arcade. Once the fight was over, one couldn't expect anything else from an armed man. And that was the last thing she wanted.

So she just hung limply in the saddle and her hair fell down like her tears.  
What would they do to her now? When they would arrive. Would the King let drag her before his throne and order to the guards to behead her? Or still in front of a septon, side by side with Viserys? Perhaps it would be the least cruel of all possibilities. And what about her father? What if it all could be settled and she crushed that chance due to her escape? What if they already killed him because of her? But she didn't want to ask her captors. They would surely say yes only to cause her more pain. They had no reason to tell her the truth or answer at all. But surely, they had to bring her to the King, so there would be a way to find out what was happening. After all, her mother sat next to him, she couldn't condone this all!

But when they finally reached the courtyard of the Red Keep, they didn't take her back to the Throne Room or to the castle at all. They pulled her down the horse and one of the guards carried her, still cuffed, around the walls and through some narrow aisle to a round turret. There he stood her on the ground, took a knife and cut the rope around her legs. He also unlocked the handcuffs on her hands, but two more guards held her shoulders to not let her set free and then they broke open one door and pushed her to the stairs behind it.  
Jaenna panicked. They were taking her to dungeons?!  
She started to prance again and tried to wrench from their grip. She was risking a fall but on the other side, she rather intended to die than find herself in a cell. And she managed to kick one of the guards and scratch the back of the hand of the other. But the third one grabbed her hair, yanked back, so she almost landed on her bottom and then uncompromisingly push her farther.

"Don't touch me, pig! I am a princess! Princess from Dorne! You can't do this!"  
"Princess from Dorne? I heard 'bout them. Want me to strip my breeches now or at the bottom?" he snarled, but didn't let her go, well aware of what pain and twitching he caused.  
"If for me to stuff that handcuffs to your ass, you can right now!" she snapped, so a hand flew from the dark brightened only by a few torches and she received another slap. She felt, that whoever was holding her hair, some had to stay in his hand, how she yanked. And then she suddenly found herself on her knees on a hard floor and before she stood up, doors behind her slammed.

"Let me go!" she leant on it and then started to banging on it. "Let me go! You can't do this! I am a princess! You will have a conflict with Dorne on your hands! My father is the brother of prince Doran! My aunt is Rhaegar's wife!" she almost even screamed, her mother was the Queen. But nothing worked. No title or kin had a value down here and she should be thankful just for not ending in one of the infamous black cells.  
Not that she had a clue what did they look like, but because this one had narrow windows high up in the walls that let some light flow inside, it didn't seem like a black cell. And she fell silent anyway and listened because she thought, that Robert could call from the next one. Or her father. Whoever she knew and was maybe captured with her. But no one called and she didn't know, whether it was because nothing could be heard due to the thick walls or because no one was around.

How could everything go wrong like this? Just a moment ago, the celebration in honor of little Aegon was the biggest event scheduled for tonight. But Jaenna doubted there would be any. After all, they arrested the niece of his mother and maybe also her brother. It would certainly provoke Dorne and her uncle might send troops. Could he start a war with the King? Targaryens had no dragons now, neither a wise or cunning king. But Dornishmen wouldn't be able to hide in sands and wait for an attack, they would have to attack themselves. And she knew from maester Caleotte very well, that the stories about their strength were greatly exaggerated. In fact, they had almost the smallest army in the realm. But if not soldiers, what would get her out of this cell? Would the King come to his senses? Or could her mother dare to take over the sceptre? And what if... what if Rhaegar would decide to help her? Would he do it? Or was he glad that they removed her so quickly? But he liked her. He liked her so much, that he drove out thoughts about his wife.  
If her father got out, he would surely do what would be in his power, but she couldn't rid of an annoying voice in her head shouting he didn't. And that even Doran wouldn't send an army, big or small. And that Rhaegar wouldn't come because she actually meant nothing to him. He was the prince, handsome prince, he undoubtedly played with many women like this. And she even wasn't a proper woman. Only a girl on the edge of womanhood.

"Let me go! Open! You know who I am, you can't keep me here! I didn't do anything!"  
But no one responded even now. There probably wasn't even the jailor. But she wanted out. She desperately wanted out and return home! She would gladly forget the whole city and everybody in it, if only she saw the pink terraces of Water Gardens in front of her again. She would gladly hug Nym and little Tyene and wrap her arms even around grumpy Obara's neck. And apologize to Areo for all troubles she had ever caused, only if she could be there. She couldn't admit she would never be. She probably wouldn't take the new maid with her like this and would be glad, if she took back at least her life, but she anxiously kept her thoughts away from the possibility she would never leave this place. She believed she could do it somehow. Or she wanted to believe.

She banged on the door once more. For nothing. In the end, she dropped to the floor and leant on it again. Perhaps it was another nightmare. Or... another fulfilling nightmare? Was possibly this firm, dark door picturing those flames keeping her from running but also protecting her from a worse fate? She didn't know. She just sat there, on the cold stones, and watched sun rays shifting through her window along with time. She didn't know how to measure it, so she just blindly waited, what would happen next. Surely something had to?

It did.  
Eventually, they came for her.  
She thought they would take her to the King now, but she was wrong again. This time, instead of chains, they tied her hands with rough rope and led her from the dungeons somewhere outside. There were other men than those who brought her here. They didn't say a word, had serious faces and it seemed to her, that the one whose profile she saw really wanted to be somewhere else. But they didn't say any stupid comments and didn't treat her bad, so she also tried a smoother attitude.  
"Where are you taking me?" and "Please, what's with my father?"  
But she received no answer. They still didn't talk and when she stopped to make them react, one of them pushed her and another yanked with her cuffed hands, so she had to go or let break out violence. They didn't want to tell her because they didn't know or because she would start to rage if they told the truth? She didn't know what was worse.

And then they finally went out to the courtyard. Walls towered around the whole place and on top of them were open terraces full of people, as well as galleries in the middle and arcades on the ground. The sun stood high in the sky, it was maybe even close to sunset, so it blinded her for a while and she only heard bigger and bigger noise, but then she blinked and an area opened in front of her, closed on all sides, surrounded by reddish stone and courtiers. And...  
Suddenly, ice horror stroke her and she stopped.  
"No... no, no! NO!"

She jerked, what one of the guards wasn't expecting, so she freed herself for a heartbeat and started to back. But they caught her immediately. She yanked and twitched the more desperate. Kicked around and wrenched the guards, backed and writhed and all of sudden, she felt terribly weak. Right in the middle of the courtyard, amidst of neatly piled firewood and brushwood, two men stood tied to the stakes. Actually, one of them stood there and the second almost hang. Perhaps he was unconscious. The two Northerners who blocked the soldiers during the court. And she spotted another silhouette behind them, empty, waiting stake on the other side. Her legs buckled and she barely noticed the guards were carrying her. That's why they looked so strangely, they knew what was here.

Only when they brought her to the dais of the pile, she started to struggle again. Now she had a view not only on other condemned but also on many people on the terraces. There were a lot of them, but all too far to recognize. And it didn't matter anyway. She didn't care who was watching. If there stood that bastard who tried to rape her, slimy Varys, disgusting Pycelle, hateful Connington or shining golden Jaime Lannister. Or even Rhaegar, who obviously didn't move a finger for her. Actually, she didn't even think about it. She couldn't. All her thoughts twirled around only one thing - not this!  
"No! Not this! You can't! NO! Help! HELP! Father! Father, please! Father! PAPA! NO! PAPA! MOTHER!"  
Nothing helped. Screaming and raving, they dragged her up to the spike and tied her with another rough rope.  
"MOTHER! NO! GO TO HELLS!"  
Nothing. It seemed to her, that one of the guards shivered a little and hesitated, but the others tightened the last knot and hastily retreated.  
Men next to her didn't give a sound. Or she didn't notice it. Her heart pounded so furiously, that it filled her ears more than surrounding voices.  
"PLEASE! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

The sky above was bright blue and amiable. The sun painted incredible patterns on the walls while it forces its way through the turrets and windows. And on the highest terrace, stooped figure in black got up from his golden chair and gestured to the crowd.  
Next to him, another figure with a shiny silver hair and a black gown clutched the railing and a group of guards made their way forward on the other side. They held struggling man in an orange doublet in the middle.  
"Papa..."

But a man with a hood and a torch in his hand emerged from one of shadowy passage on the courtyard. The King loved wildfire, but this one was orange and red like the rhoynish sun. Milder and slower. Worse.  
Jaenna started to sob and the rope cut into her body once strength left her. No one helped her. No one would. She would die. Everyone would watch flames torturing innocent until there would remain only black ash, and they would do nothing. What were lords from the North guilt of? That they stood in the Throne Room? And what about her? That she was born?  
"Mother... papa..." she couldn't say more. All her words stuck in her throat and she felt life leaving her already.  
They'd burn her. She was a princess. Dornish princess, daughter of the dragon Queen and the Red Viper. She had everything and more. People loved her. And she loved her home. And now they would burn her.

She hoped for a little luck, that she would breathe smoke and suffocate before the flames would lick her legs. Was she afraid of Death? Maybe. She was afraid of pain. Then they lit the first pile and a light smoke rose high up. She shouldn't have luck. Gods didn't want to be merciful. Although, their mercy maybe should be, that she didn't see faces of her parents through a grey smoky shade. And they hers.  
She couldn't take notice even a beat of her heart anymore. Or did it stop? Like she was already gone. Somewhere away.

The fire spread fast. And the Queen fainted. Not the Queen, her mother. One knight in a shining white armor supported her. The King ignored it.  
Her father roared and fought. Three men held him, scared more than him. But there were three of them. And they had orders.  
If the teaching of her septa was true, she would wait for him in one of the seven hells. And tell him it wasn't his fault. Or was it?

She heard a man yelling. No, scream. Some men screamed. Women turned and tried to discreetly disappear. At first. Then they ran. The King didn't care.

She didn't see Robert. Did they lock him to the dungeons too or did he escape? She hoped he escaped. And her other part, the frightening one, that sang stronger and stronger about pain with voice oddly similar to the scream or wolf's howling of the lord next to her, hoped he didn't. That he would suffer even more. He didn't help her. They caught them. He should help her. He should suffer.

Her father got a blow to the head and lifelessly hung between two soldiers. Smoke and heat shrouded him for a while. Twigs and straw at her feet started to burn.  
Then the intangible curtain unfolded and she saw a face. Pale and framed by silver. He bore something in his hands. And sorrow in his eyes. So deep, that she just knew he would drown in it. She nodded her head, or she just imagined it, and he bent down and placed a cloth package into the fire.  
And disappeared.  
Flames were back.

Perhaps Northerners were right with their old gods. Perhaps she would watch the world from the trunk of a white tree in a moment. Or she would take the hand of Mother Rhoyne. Or there was nothing.

Suddenly, she again felt her heart. Its beats filled her whole. Screams sounded from afar now. She felt heat. Immense heat. Every beat was like a deafening blow. A wall of smoke arose in front of her and a huge flame flared up. Each beat, a blow. A blow. And another. As if the whole world cracked with her heart.

She saw mother's face. For a second. And heard a cry of pain tearing her to pieces. Then even she was swallowed by the flames. Black.


	16. Chapter 16

_**I think many of you knew what would happen, so it won't really be a surprise, but we are still not in the end and things are in motion. I don't really know how many chapters are left, but I have ideas about the end of rebellion. And under current circumstances, it would be very interesting to continue even after that, because cards would be dealt very differently. But I'm not sure, so enjoy this chapter for now.**_

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Rhaegar in his dark cloak slowly approached the courtyard full of smoldering ashes and charred branches and logs. All three stakes where people were tied collapsed and fell into a messy pile of the gloomy burnt.  
There was dark, far from dawn, and the moon didn't shine as well as the castle windows because people were afraid to draw attention to themselves tonight, but dying embers were shining everywhere in cracks in the ashes. The fire burned long and he approached it with fear.

He didn't understand what had occurred to his father. What had he done was a pure madness. He should do something a long time ago, but he didn't and now he couldn't do anything. There was no argument to persuade him and when he tried to order to release the lords and princess, he found out, he had too little loyal friends. His father experienced another fiery ecstasy and to oppose him could be mad alike. The only thing he could manage was to spare Elia the worst. He held her in her bedroom ready to turn away anyone showing his face or sword. He had no idea whether the King would come to a conclusion, that she was guilty too, but he was sure, that joining him on the terrace would kill her. He had no such luck with her brother, prince Oberyn. They dragged him there to look. He was barely sane and in the end, they had to defuse him.

And he, in some sudden impulse, went to her chambers. There were no guards and he met no one on his way. No wonder, dread ran through the whole Red Keep, like if the Others themselves would come. Executions weren't anything strange here. And no longer even executions by fire. But who witnessed the morning court or at least met princess Jaenna, he couldn't doubt, that they were no traitors, that there was no trial, that this was just another of King's terrible whim.  
Then he grabbed the egg there and seen or not, put it to her feet. He wasn't completely sure why did he do that, but he felt he had to. Even if it was probably nonsense. Maybe he was becoming delirious too. Since some time ago, in fact, from that moment she appeared in the city.

And now he couldn't help himself, he had to go to look at the courtyard again. In the middle of the night, surely unseen this time. No one would dare to approach it until the King commanded it. And the King didn't command it. He didn't want to silently efface his folly. And folly it was. What other answer of Dorne and North would come than blood? He rather wanted the realm to see how was he dealing with traitors. Real ones or imaginary. Or just utterly accidental. He wanted Tywin Lannister to see how could he let the Seven Kingdoms forget Reynes and Tarbecks. He just didn't imagine how well.

Like a ghost blending in with the surroundings, he passed the biggest dark pile of ashes, where the bones of lord Stark and his son were lying. If the fire was hot enough. But he didn't seek them. There would be lots and lots of people honoring them and he didn't doubt that even denuding their swords in their names. And even he deeply regretted their incomprehensible and cruel death. But he regretted another one much more.  
Slowly, he went to the outer pile, where the guards tied her. Even her stake wasn't there. It turned black, broke and fell on the square bordered by big wood logs. There could be barely something recognizable underneath. Only ashes, glowing embers, he wasn't certain whether he saw ruined rope, charred shoe, fossil black shell or perhaps a bone. But he had the impression he saw something. Something dark and shiny and... alive?

The pile of ashes in front of him moved and what he saw took his breath away. He couldn't tell he was expecting that, he rather felt foolish and fatuous. He probably only believed, that it was the last thing he could do for her. But now? He knelt and carefully pulled the layer of ash. His heart was beating fiercely.  
But he wasn't dreaming. It was really there. Beside a big dark eye looking somewhere forth, far away, where he couldn't see, a leathery membrane was hiding the rest of her face. And when he tried to reach out his hand, something coiled under her chin hissed on him.  
That was impossible!

He looked around to make sure no one was looking. Then he tore his black cloak off his shoulders and covered both of them. He couldn't risk anything now. And then he ran the same corridor through what they brought her here yesterday.  
It really happened! He didn't understand how, but... it did. And he knew he had to act immediately. The only guard at the entrance to the dungeons had no chance to notice someone's coming. He fell on the floor, Rhaegar stepped over him, unbuckled the keys from his belt and continued down.

It took some time to find the right cell. And the more he tried, the longer it seemed. Until finally, the torch he took from the holder on the wall illuminated an orange person sitting on the ground in one of the dark rooms without windows. He just hoped his anger didn't rob all his sense. Although maybe... as soon as he entered and Oberyn found the incomer alone, he jumped with unexpected swiftness on his feet and attacked him with his bare hands. Only a heartbeat left for Rhaegar to duck. He didn't want to fight.

"I am here to help!"  
But Oberyn didn't listen to him. And Rhaegar really didn't want to draw his sword. He himself felt a fading shock of what he saw and didn't intend to waste a chance to not start a war with Dorne. But he underestimated Oberyn and his ability to wage a war alone, even in this state. Or rather especially in this state. He hesitated and two hands squeezed his neck.  
Rhaegar tossed the torch on the floor and tried to withdraw. Oberyn had strength in him. Perhaps more than he. And implacable rage in his eyes. He wanted to kill him and Rhaegar understood. But he wasn't about to die.  
"I want... to... help you!"  
"Like you helped her? Behind Elia's back? And then into the flames?!"  
"But she's... alive..." Rhaegar breathed when Oberyn finally let him go. And Oberyn looked stunned for a while, but then it looked like he wanted to punch him.  
"Really! Let's go. We must hurry."  
This time, Oberyn didn't attack, but suspiciously eyed him. Rhaegar knew he didn't trust him but he was also loosing patience. Everything he wanted to do was riskier with every minute. And he even didn't know what exactly he wanted to do. Only that he just embarked on a path of no return.

Maybe he did convince him, that he meant no harm to his family, maybe he didn't. He felt, that Oberyn hated him at that moment as much as his father. He even knew something had happened between him and Jaenna. But he didn't intend to talk about it. He wouldn't even know what to say. He didn't think he would be able to explain what he did and why. In fact, would he be able to explain what was he doing now and why? He was committing a treason, that much was clear. Treason against his father. But he had to. This would have immense consequences! Actually, it was going to have consequences, there still was the North and its dead lords, but this was even more serious. And his father definitely must not know. No one must know. It was too terrific. After all, it was almost hundred and forty years and no one knew...

"Quickly, this way."  
Rhaegar led Oberyn back to the courtyard and he still looked strongly suspicious.  
"I saw her burn. I saw... what have you done to her! No one can stay alive after that, no one!" Oberyn hissed.  
"Trust me. She's alive. I don't understand but... trust me. It will be shocking."  
He just took Oberyn to the pile. He knew he wanted to believe him, otherwise, he wouldn't go up here, but he was grieved of reality. And that would be frightening for him, even if not how he expected. At least, it was frightening and unbelievable for Rhaegar.

He went to the place, what he covered with his cloak. Oberyn was ready to attack again as soon as he would find him lying. Then he carefully stripped the cloak and slender, small head full of sharp teeth hissed. More angrily this time, but a hand covered with ash emerged and stroked its neck.

"Gods..."  
Oberyn realized what was he looking at. And as Rhaegar before, even he couldn't believe his eyes.  
"Jaenna..."  
A girl snuggled into a black cloak and even more black ashes finally sat. Her hair was gone as well as her beautiful dress she wore when they had dragged her to the pile and she was cowering underneath the cloak, muddy and naked.  
Not wholly naked.  
Her nudity was partly hidden by the dragon in her arms.  
A hatchling.  
Alive.  
And entirely real.

It also was black. Or so dark, that its color couldn't be told. Only the scales on the bottom of its neck and stomach dimly glittered with gold and golden were its wings when it spread them, leather membranes on which should it float in the sky one day.

Rhaegar watched that scene with unremitting awe, but Oberyn immediately knelt into blackened, crumbling logs, took off his own doublet and threw it over Jaenna's shoulders.  
"Gods..." he murmured again and then he grasped her to make sure she was really alive. He kissed her forehead as he had been doing when she was little and he wanted to assure her, that everything was all right. And then he looked at the dragon sitting on her chest and spitefully observing everyone going too close, again. But it was barely a hatchling, it didn't bend on him. It just viewed him for a while and then gave a surprisingly loud screech.

It was like it spurred both men again.  
"You have to disappear at once. No one can see this, no one! It would be even worse than now!"  
"We have horses in the stables," Oberyn agreed. Jaenna didn't react. She pulled closer father's doublet into which she slowly dressed, and cuddled the hatchling again. It was warm. It couldn't breathe fire at all yet, but it was warm nevertheless.  
"No, it would be too slow. They would catch you. I know about a better way."  
Oberyn straightened up, shielded Jaenna with his own body and Rhaegar noticed, he took an offensive stand.  
"Yes? And what way?" he asked caustically.  
"A lot of people is leaving the city in fear. Even merchants."  
"The more likely we can get lost among them," Oberyn opposed.  
"No. I know about a myrish merchant with a modest ship. I've bought lace for my mother to her namesday from him. He was offering other goods and said, that he's leaving in the morning after Aegon's feast if I change my mind. Myr is not too far for him to not let himself be persuaded to sail for the dornish coast."  
Oberyn sneered.  
"So we are to trust some myrish merchant? They wanted to burn her! Burn! Did you forget?!"  
"Either this or I can grant no help. Whether will you do anything, it must be done quickly. I can take you to the harbor. I know some tunnels to the cliffs."

Oberyn didn't want to go with him. He didn't trust him and was afraid, that he would open his eyes at any moment and find out this all was a dream. That Jaenna wasn't real, that his mind was playing with him. But even if he should sacrifice himself, he had to get her out of here. Her and her dragon. He had no explanation about how could this animal hatch from an egg he considered fossilized decoration. Dragons were more than hundred years gone now. Wild dragons, dragons of Velaryons, dragons of Targaryens. But then he realized again, his daughter was Targaryen. As her mother, dragon Queen, he once felt madly in love with, and as the first Daenerys, who once married his ancestor. But anyway. Living dragon?!

"I want a weapon."  
Rhaegar hesitated.  
"I think I can arrange it. In fact, I think about something else. I'll lead you to the tunnels and you will wait for me. I swear this is a disaster and I have no desire to hurt any of you. I would never hurt the family of Elia and the realm with it," Rhaegar averted his eyes from the dragon that fascinated him and tried to persuade Oberyn. Even if he knew the damage was already irreversible. Perhaps he could calm Dorne, but the rest of the realm? North, in particular. North would remember. And if it was known, that dragon was born from this tragedy, although differently than he might try, complete chaos would break. Even he would need time to think how would this reborn creature of fire affect the future.

Therefore, Oberyn helped Jaenna to her feet. Robed into his doubled and grubby from the ashes, she looked awfull and vulnerable and her sometimes utterly faraway look raised concerns in him, but he still looked around and when he was certain no one was watching them, joined Rhaegar back into the dark of the castle and then straight underneath.

When he tried to hold back the guards and give Jaenna chance to run, he didn't think where could she run. He just had to do it. And he also killed one of them easily. But others kept coming and courtiers, fleeing from the King's wrath, started to hinder and he found himself in chains before he knew it.  
Then they locked him in the cell. He noticed they were confused about what should he commit or what was really happening, so it wasn't a black cell, but still the dignified prison for a highborn. Like he would possibly care. He thought only about her. He hoped she managed it to the stables by some miracle and rode away or that she hid somewhere to not be found. But he learned in his life, that miracles did not happen. Only one, when he met Rhaella. Their wild relationship was a miracle because he could never fell in love like that again, in spite of the fact, that he slept with many women and brought home three other children. Well, three. That beautiful black captain from Summer Isles sent a message about her newborn Sarella. He hadn't told it to anyone so far, but he was thinking about introducing her to her sisters. She was another bastard, yet, a man had to care about his family, especially family he sowed. But how could he do it now, when he failed his most precious treasure?  
He loved all his daughters, he loved his siblings and their children and he could kill, poison, deceive and provoke conflicts and still be ready to do anything for them. But Jaenna... her mother was someone special, unique, one and only. He couldn't deny he loved her most.

He should have never taken her here. He didn't think any danger could await her here. The visit of her dear aunt, feast and return. But then she met Rhaegar and he would have to be blind and entirely stupid to not see what was happening. The prince should have seen reasons, the prince should have had remorses and he shouldn't have heeded the fact he's the prince and intervene, but none had. And she still was only sixteen years old girl and fell for him. Then Aerys and his crazy idea changing in a terror. He couldn't intervene in this. Nor desperate Rhaella, with whom he didn't spoke of caution, but to look at her was enough. Therefore, he hoped the whole situation would vanish as soon as someone else sat on the throne. But who expected, that Aerys would concoct so absurd turnover and tear down the Seven kingdoms?

And once they dragged him out of the cell and took him on the terrace, when they made him look how they were tying her to the stake... no, he could never wipe out this memory. Suddenly, he didn't perceive anything around, only a steely grip of guards he ferociously tried to shake off and Rhaella's weak voice dying when she fainted. Their child. Their daughter.  
Then a smoke shrouded her, a flame shot out and Oberyn's last thought before a blow of a heavy glove sent him into the darkness was "she is a dragon..." .

Some time later, he woke up in the dark cell, without windows this time, and he realized it was over. He was confused for a few moments and tried to piece together what had happened because his head was throbbed, but soon understood it's over. That Jaenna was dead, Aerys, according to gossips, was making Rhaella scream in his bed, and he, for the first time since his boyhood, wasn't the dreaded viper, but only a shell. Only a skin the viper took off and left in the sand. He felt nothing. He felt empty. Hollow. He had no idea what would happen to him, he was vaguely aware he would probably die, bud didn't care. He also heard covert voices repeating names of Doran, Elia and other girls somewhere deep down in him, but he didn't listen even to them.  
Until the heavy, ironclad doors opened and his life was overturned again.

Dragon.  
She really was a dragon.  
She survived, another miracle or proof how special her roots and his history with the Queen was, but she was there. Bald, naked, confused... alive. That itself was a shock and the dragon... one part of him still refused to admit, that he really saw it. He just couldn't accept more. And now, if they could believe in Rhaegar, they would finally get back home.

But nothing would be the same, he couldn't lie to himself. No one could discover she survived, no one could find out what wonder did she bring into this world, and there were still other innocent victims of Aerys' madness. It maybe seemed now, in the heavy, dead air in the tunnel, behind its stony walls not leaking the weakest rustle, like calm and peace. But people were fleeing and messages resounding. Perhaps it was calm now, but...  
Hurried footsteps sounded, the torch Rhaegar took somewhere into the bowels of the castle reappeared and the dragon in Jaenna's arms gave another screech. Oberyn firmly grabbed her by her shoulders.  
...it was calm before the storm.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Finally, there's a new chapter! I know it took some time, but I work in a law office, I translate some „wiki-like" stuff about ASOIAF for one Czech website (I'm much better in English → Czech translation, I know my "active English" sucks) and of course, I have other hobbies, so I was slow with this. And again, it's not really Jaenna's chapter. This one belongs to our beloved Areo Hotah and Oberyn. But the war is almost here nevertheless and I need a small advice. Would you rather watch most of the events through Jaenna's eyes and mind and see Dorne (although it will not directly participate in this war) and not the rest of the realm much or get summary from the narrator, which would contain even actions and thoughts of other protagonists as Robert, even if Jaenna would probably not know about some of them and they certainly wouldn't know about her?**_

 _ **And imjustsayin505 suggested, that Jaenna's hair should come back as platinum-blond. That's actually something I discussed with my friend who criticizes my ideas in this story and we agreed it's not bad idea :)**_

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Areo Hotah came to the Dorne years ago and everything was new to him at that time as well as to his mistress. Hot sun, hot food and hot desert people were so different from Norvos, that he would probably die in the first weeks had he not gone through his training. At least he felt it like that. It was simply like in the hearth in the Sunspear, where did he travel with his lady Mellario to the prince. It was better in Water Gardens, where did they move soon after. Pools and fountains humidified and cooled the air and palm and orange trees cast a pleasant shadows. And he himself felt like a shadow. But it was just a start.

Then he found out, there weren't just he, his mistress and his prince with servants and other guards he distrusted at the beginning before he became their captain and checked thoroughly who would stay in his unit. But also a small, black-haired froglet, who would stay away from his mistress, but merrily called the prince "uncle" and wasn't afraid to grab his hand and drag him where she wished, whenever she needed to show him something. And he... she looked at him like at the Titan of Braavos coming down from the isles. Every time he returned her stealthy look, she immediately turned and ran away.

But as well as he got used to the fiery Dorne, the Dorne got used to him. When he stopped to sweat each time he put a bit of pepper stuffing seasoned with venom into his mouth, the black-haired froglet stopped to run from him. As well as he, she permanently lived in Water Gardens with her peers and only visited the Sunspear for years. But she was no longer a froglet then, she was a little princess. And as she grew up, his little princess.

He was glad lady Mellario decided to stay in Water Gardens. He had no doubt, that she missed the completely different climate of Norvos in her soul and even for the children she should birth to the prince, it was much more comfortable. And she did birth some, his little princess Arianne was born and now a ruddy prince Quentyn. But before this all, Jaenna was his little princess. She wasn't of his mistress, but she was a lively child always bringing some entertainment. She also always viewed his axe curiously and once she asked him whether did he really marry it. But he wasn't long in Dorne then and while he knew how to serve the lords, no one ever taught him how to manage their children. She was not of his mistress, but she was still a princess, dear niece of his prince, and he couldn't repel her.

Today he knew. As well as he got used to the fiery Dorne, he got used to the fiery little princess and her questions.  
How many people did he kill. Whether could he beat her father. Whether did he shot a bow. And whether did he think, like Obara, coming a few years later, that a bow was for cowards who were afraid to get closer to the enemy. Princ Oberyn were often away from Dorne and she, even if she adored him from afar, took Areo as her another warrior role model. And he did answer.  
Many. He would find a way. Several times. An arrow could kill as well as a spear. He learned how to answer and still carefully watch the surroundings. Even with her.

He found it funny when she chased around with a spear and when arrows were flying in all directions. But then it came to a deadly fight instead of chasing around and the arrows were flying exactly where she wanted them. He found it funny when she shouted she would beat him one day, which he let pass with an amused nod, but then she suddenly seriously admitted, that she could probably never beat him and he tensed much more in that moment.

She was his little princess, but who she really was? He knew her mother was no Lyseni. Not that he met so much Lyseni, but she had not the right accent, she looked like Valyrian, but something wasn't right with her and his instinct was never wrong. Only, his prince clearly stated she was a lysene noblewoman, so she was a lysene noblewoman. He knew better.  
And her daughter... despite all his precaution, she was always full of surprises. She always surprised him. Like when she sneaked naked to the pool at midnight. Or when she stepped off a ship in a hood with a dragon in her arms.

It was getting dark when the prince received that strange message. At first, a few days ago, a bird from Kings Landing arrived. Areo didn't know what news did it bring, but a single glance on the prince's pallid face gave him all the answers. It was spreading all over the Dorne, that their beloved snakelet of prince Oberyn was dead, brutally martyred by the Mad King, and the fate of the Red Viper himself wasn't known to anyone.  
Hotah didn't doubt for a heartbeat, that the prince would send him to knock down the head of the madman who caused it, but he didn't. He locked himself for several hours in his chambers instead, meanwhile lady Mellario, even though she was never really fond of his bastard nieces, tried to keep them in ignorance. Although, he didn't see she handled it with harsh Obara and highly intelligent Nym.  
But even after that, the prince didn't send him for revenge. He sent orders to gather an army in Prince's pass and in Yronwood. Hotah didn't ask him whether was he considering an attack or whether was he expecting the King on a faraway throne, that never really mattered to him, with his own troops, but he felt something breaking.

Then, it couldn't be more than one really hard week, that cryptic message from the Planky Town arrived. A message about a ship anchored in the mouth of the Greenblood, bringing a very important cargo for the prince, signed by name and hand of a foreign Myrish, but with a symbol Doran couldn't mistake because he was seeing it on the letters he unsealed for his nieces for years.  
Doran didn't want to believe it. Areo knew he was afraid of disappointment, so he refused to cling to the hope. But he sent him on the way and Areo obeyed with a deadly pace. He was sure the prince wouldn't be angry if he introduced the merchant to his sharpened wife should he lie or plan any malice. He wasn't showing it and as a good guard he would never do anything he wasn't asked to do, but he would like to revenge his princess. To kill with a sword, an axe or even squeeze the throat with bare hands, that could be a good and quick death. But to meet the end in flames?

However, all these thoughts left him once he finally reached the harbor, it was already the night, and stood in front of an anchored merchant ship. First, a woman in a long, dark purple cloak went down the bridge to the bank. A little clumsy, because as he noticed immediately, she was with child. But of course, he showed no interest in her. Another person emerged behind her, someone whom he didn't recognize in the dark, but when she went to him and firmly grabbed his arm with her one hand while cuddling struggling bundle with the other, he barely resisted the urge to fall on his knee and beg the gods to not veil his senses with such lunacy. This couldn't be real.

Then, just behind her, prince Oberyn jumped out. He looked around and seemed tense and wary. Only when he made sure this part of the harbor was empty, he turned to the big man in a known lightweight dornish armor.

"Doran understood, good. The princess has to be carried into the Water Gardens now, Hoath. No one can see her. Fetch a fresh horse and I will go with her. You accompany lady Ashara to us. But you don't have to hurry, right the opposite, it won't be bad for people to think you fetched only her in here."  
Areo hardly noticed the prince's orders. But he lowered his head obediently and although he couldn't take his eyes off the most fantastic sight in his life, he freed his arm from princess' grasp with a gentleness that he surprisingly possessed despite the brute force he could use.

"Oberyn, and what about the captain?" Ashara Dayne spoke. She already reconciled with their animal guide during their journey. But of course, when prince Rhaegar broke the uptight silence in which she sat by the princess Elia's bed, after a pinch of Sweetsleep helped her to sleep, and convinced her to return to Dorne instantly due to the danger for her and her unborn child in the city, she had no idea what was really happening. She was horrified and shocked, the same as the majority of the court after such unbelievably brutal and insane execution. She knew princess Jaenna from childhood and she liked her as well as Elia. Already the heartbreak of her confidante broke her own heart. And what's worse, even the father and brother of the only man who could mess with her life and fate so much burned next to that girl. She was afraid it would separate them forever. And that it would mean also their end.  
But then Rhaegar led her through the tunnels underneath the castle and to the two waiting persons and she marvelled like the Martell captain of guards. And she wasn't sure she collected herself yet.

However, Oberyn just jerked his head.  
"The crew know only about two of us but he saw her," Ashara insisted. She might be not well travelled, but she knew men. She knew any vow of secrecy was just as strong as knots tying the myrish ship to the pier. And they should be untied later today.  
"He swore he won't tell anybody. We drank to that, I filled his cup by myself," Oberyn stated and looked directly in her eyes. She understood.

Myrish merchant didn't know the prince's reputation and Oberyn had no reason to reveal he was smuggling the famous Red Viper. Neither was he foolish to think he would keep his word about silence, whether given to him or Rhaegar. No threats or amount of gold could buy the assurance, that this short, brown-haired man with shrewd eyes wouldn't blazon around the world what did he saw or sell it to someone who could use such information. Therefore, he entrusted the care of Jaenna to Ashara and kept an eye on the captain until Doran's envoy arrived. As he assumed and hoped, it was a loyal Hoath, who, on the contrary, would never utter a word and always do everything in his power to protect the loved ones of Mellario and his brother. And he liked Jaenna.

After that, it didn't take much to make the captain drink with Oberyn to the happy end of the sail and to seal their secret. He was actually so gullible that he let Oberyn pour the wine into the cups. Gullible like the guards that took only his dagger and sword from him. They didn't think he could hide even worse weapons on his body. And the captain didn't think either. He didn't notice Oberyn pouring something else into his cup at all. Then he had to only get out and let him sail off with a satisfying feeling about all the aces up his sleeve. He calculated the first wave of nausea would come as soon as the ship would disappear over the horizon.

Ashara just nodded and Oberyn bid Areo again.  
"At once, my prince. Princess," he bowed a little again and the dragon in Jaenna's arms hissed at him.

"Be quiet, Melyngar. He is a friend," Jaenna spoke with quiet but firm voice. She didn't talk during their journey. She only sat in her cabin all the time with her dragon on her lap. She didn't talk to anyone, even to her father. Just roasted pieces of fish over the flame in the lantern and fed it to the dragon. He had no clue why was she doing that, but she certainly knew more about dragons. She read a lot of memoirs and books about them. So he let her be. Moreover, he thought she was little reviving that way. At first, she was still shaking and looked around alarmed whenever someone's steps sounded too close or whenever he opened the cabin's door, despite only he and Ashara could go there. In fact, they pretended it was Ashara's cabin. And every time she was disturbed like that, even the dragon became upset. Until a few days later.  
After few days, when the dragon never left the warmth of her body, it stopped. And now he could finally hear her voice coming back. Her coming back to him from flames.

"Melyngar?"  
"I told you. If it's in there, it's Melyngar."  
"Well, hide it well then. We are not safe here, not until we are in Water Gardens. Eyes and ears could be everywhere. And not only Doran's," Oberyn warned her. It meant someone else could already know about them, someone who could cause trouble. Or Aerys himself. Who knew how far would the Spider's webs reach? But Jaenna just looked at him and he realized all her frailty and vulnerability painfully displaying in her face when he pulled her out of the ashes was gone. The hatchling got off the scarf she was hiding it in and climbed on her shoulder thanks to its tiny claws. He couldn't breathe fire now, but the warmth that would become a heath in the future was radiating from it and as that was what burned out all the terror and remnants of naive, childish princess remaining in her and hardened whatever that happened to her during her fiery rebirth. She used to be a mischievous hatchling herself, tanned by the sun, innocent and adventurous until they made her only a shadow boarding in the King's Landing. But along with waves rushing below and clouds beneath them, something else rushed inside her. Something growing and swallowing her. He was wrong. She didn't survive the execution. This wasn't Jaenna Nymeros Martell how he knew her her whole life anymore and not due to the missing flood of dark hair. They burned her, torn her apart, scorched the venom in her blood and unknowingly replaced it with fire.

"Let them be here. Let them come, father. They tied me to the spike and built a pile. Shall I still fear the red dragon on an ugly throne? He's not the only one. Melyngar will be the greatest of dragons ever soaring the sky. And the world will see."


	18. Chapter 18

_**A new chapter. Hear, hear!**_

 _ **I know it's a little bit strange, it had always been more or less Jaenna's chapters (I won't say POV, because I particularly don't like that concept, I like to know what's happening objectively, but still, it has some strokes and it's not really an objective narrator's storytelling) and now there is Rhaegar's, Areo's, a lot of Oberyn's and now even Obara's (next Robert's). And I don't have any clear explanation, it always just comes to me and I just think „ok, that may work". And also, to always have Jaenna in the centre of everything would be much less interesting, because she is just a person, who tries to cope with what happened to her. But the rest of the world is moving and moving fast. And after all, I still make up everything on the run.**_

 _ **And the idea of a Guest „imagine Rhaegar & Jaenna isolated with a child somewhere" amused me. A bit like „imagine Robb saving Ned" had to amuse GRRM :) But maybe in some certain, very odd Dany-like way... anything can happen.**_

* * *

Obara had always been the fiercest of her sisters. Many people also thought it her only trait. That she lived for a fight, despised the scholars and diplomacy and followed her father nearly fanatically after he had pulled her out of the filth and given her maybe not a name but a life for her to be her own. And not to spread her legs for anyone who would clink with coppers under the guidance of her mother. Although, she doubted she would make a living at least by that. She had no illusions, she knew she wasn't pretty and only the drunkest or foulest would pay her. But she didn't mind, she preferred to be a warrior rather than a whore. Rather be herself, stubborn and uncompromising than someone else's, always someone's, every night, alienating and dirty. But one thing she was not. Stupid.

Maybe she didn't listen to maesters and septas. Maybe the fight truly was the only meaning of her life and maybe she followed her father fanatically, but she wasn't stupid. Her sisters were still young. Tyene was tottering at lady Mellario's feet and stealing orange slices from Arianne and Nym was lying on a sofa, reading some silly book. She just stood in the corner and watched them spitefully. Mellario herded them into this chamber used as a playroom for her noble children about a week ago and they had been returning every day ever since and she didn't let them out of her sight. But Obara wasn't stupid.

She didn't need an announcement from her or her prince uncle Doran, whom she also didn't see the whole week. She knew how to sneak out of the castle once the precautions fell down and everyone sleeped soundly and how to collect information. She didn't have to try particularly hard after all, the people, servants, guards and other peasants were reaching the boiling point. And now, after Areo Hotah disappeared from the castle - she had seen him leaving from the window - she even had a plan.

Maybe she did follow her father fanatically and the fight was the only meaning of her life. But that was not all she had. She had a family. Not her filthy mother, a real family. And no matter what they did, they couldn't keep the facts from her. That the sisterfucker on the Iron Throne bereaved her of it.

She had never understood Elia's thrill of marrying the prince with silver hair and pretty face. As if it mattered. One strike of the handle of her spear and that face would be much less pretty. But she had respected that. They just weren't really close. Also maybe because Elia was a princess, a proper lady, and Obara missed only the right thing between her legs to become a man. Her only older sister Jaenna understood her better. The one who also used to be a little whimpering lady before she started to follow her to heel. She told her she was stupid for looking forward to traveling to Oldtown. She told her it's a nasty hole. And then again for rejoicing that their father would take her to King's Landing. She told her she was acting like those hens of the Reach, only cackling when some man would look at them. And that she should rather stay at home and go to the Plankytown with her and along the Greenblood to the Shandystone, an abandoned fortress they could explore as many young adventurers of the river.  
But Jaenna didn't want to. And then that sisterfucker threw her into the fire and killed Oberyn. No one allegedly knew what happened to him, but they had been telling her everything's all right before too and she had no reason to believe he could be.

So she just waited with her grim expression for Mellario to drive Arianne and her sisters to their beds. Her cloak for the ride through the desert, water and her horse were prepared in the stables. And her spear. Which would she put through the head of the King and anyone else who would try to save him.  
Father had admonished her and Nym to not make any trouble in his last letter. Of course, Tyene too, but she wasn't able to read it on her own yet. As always when he wasn't at home. And she had never made any, she had always minded her own business. Training, tours, time with her sisters. And she didn't see this as trouble neither, it was her business too. Her father. Her sister. Justice. And revenge. Those dragon fuckers boasted fire and blood, didn't they? So she would show them what blood really looked like.  
She didn't tell anybody about her plans, despite Nym's studious look and questions in her eyes. She was too young and couldn't help her nor keep a secret. And anyone else would try to stop her.

But to her annoyance, she had to wait longer than she liked. Mellario sent Arianne to prepare for bed with her septa, Tyene immediately joined them, as her loyal tail she'd always been, and Nym finally put the book aside. Only Quentyn, little, ugly crying babe with pink cheeks and a tuft of brown hair decided exactly opposite and started to scream with no end. Even worse, Mellario didn't leave them for him as the good mother, but let his nursemaid bring him into the playroom. And Obara knew she would not let her go alone in case she would try to excuse herself earlier.  
Moreover, Nym, who also didn't really love Mellario but didn't show it or the fact, that Mellario didn't lover her back, promptly started to shake with something reminding a horse of a fabric stuffed with a raw wool in the shape of a very fat sheep in front of Quentyn's face and ask why was he crying and why were babies crying all the time. To restrain, in other words. It was already late, Hotah left at dusk and as far as she knew, he could be back at any moment. And it wasn't so easy to get out, especially with a gear and a horse, with him around. This mountain of man had to have eyes everywhere.

Finally, she managed to leave and slip out of the sight of everyone who should save her from the truth at her uncle's command very late at night.  
She ran down the stairs like a ghost and was sure nothing would stop her now. But to her even bigger anger, she found the palace annoyingly lively. She dodged two soldiers in the last minute and as soon as they passed her, she wanted to go on, but she heard them mention the prince and the Boneway, and even if she had never understood the need of spies and manipulation because she preferred a direct confrontation, she quietly skulked behind them to find more. The Boneway led to the Stormlands and people traveled to the capital from there. The prince... they could talk about the Prince's pass, another way from Dorne, about Doran or her father as well. And she had to know.

However, it didn't last long. She had to jump into the shadows again after a while because she heard another light steps and the familiar voice of her uncle. Could they really talk only about him? But why would he arrange a night meeting about the Boneway with soldiers? Could they...  
Obara shivered, but not with fear. With excitement. Could they march to war? To war for vengeance?  
But then her excitement fell as if they split ice water on her. He ordered to both soldiers, commanders probably, to keep the positions, but do nothing. Not to move the troops. Just wait.  
She didn't need to listen to that any further, turned back and sneaked off far enough to run without them to notice.

Wait? For what did he want to wait? For burned bones of her sister to crumble into dust? For Oberyn's head to arrive, bloody and half-rotten? For that madman to kill even Elia and her children? Maybe they did not have enough men, but the Crownlands also wasn't overflowing with armies. If they were fast, they could storm the King's palace before he called for help. And who knew? Perhaps even that drunk leading Stormlands would help them with his army. He had tried to conquer Jaenna's skirts not only once after all. She used to act as innocent or septa, yet Obara didn't believe she had never mounted a man. Not she. And not the one who would give a kingdom for that.

Finally, she got into the stables. She used a small door, that would not work for any horse and that was used for everyone who didn't want to open and secure the whole gate. She was glad for that. She could be quick and invisible and not wake up the palace with a creaking of the huge hinges. It would be only while she would leaving and they would not catch her then. She was sure now, they would not approve her actions, so she didn't want them to find out where did she head until she would be out of their reach.

Fast as a cat, she entered a stall with a saddled horse. She patted him on the head and pulled a dry apple out of her pocket to prevent him from any sound. They had been friends for a long time now and she knew very well what did he like. He was given to her for her eighth name-day, as well as other horses to her two sisters who already reached their eighth year, and she named him Wind. Perhaps it wasn't really creative, but he galloped like a wind, so what else could she choose? Their father viewed it as a tradition and didn't admit that one of them could not want to ride. And none refused. All of them had trained already before they got their own animals.  
Then she took her cloak off from a clinch hammered into one of the beams. She just wanted to throw it over her shoulders, when she heard hinges of the gate.

She quickly bent to the ground, so that the two figures with a horse taking shape on the fading background didn't notice her, but her damned Wind bent too, perhaps he wanted to find another apple, nudged her, Obara swung and tried to keep balance. So she stretched her arm and stroke her spear leaning against the wall of the stall. She cursed silently and hoped the unfamiliar couple would not link the hollow bang with anything unusual. But just to be sure, she grabbed the spear with both hands and prepared to jump on anyone who would look into the stall. She crouched to the ground and carefully listened to the steps softened with straw, however, she had no chance to see anyone's feet. She just knew one of the two people was walking towards her.

Suddenly, the steps stopped, but not in front of her. She noticed they missed still a bit. Therefore, in a sudden impulse, she pointed the spear up to the next stall. She was also about to jump, because she found her intuition wasn't wrong, but stopped at the last moment.

"Obara?!" she heard a very familiar voice, dropped her spear and stood up.  
"Father..."  
Would any other girl be in her place, Nym, Tyene or Jaenna, they would immediately throw themselves around his neck, but not she. Not that she wasn't bewildered or didn't feel relief and joy, she just didn't show it according to her habits and only stood on a spot and stared at him.

"What are you doing here?"  
"I thought you dead. No one knew what happened to you."  
"I am not dead. What are you doing here?" he repeated, although he had some suspicion, that grew after a look at her whip and small, round shield mounted to the saddle of her horse.  
"I was about to leave."  
"King's Landing?"  
Obara nodded.  
"It was foolish to want to kill him by yourself."  
"Doran does nothing! He gathered an army and let them sit on their asses! Someone has to act, someone has to take vengeance on them, well, he killed my sister! Dorans niece!" she instantly defended herself. Maybe she didn't show her joy and love, but she surely did display her rage.  
"Doran waits wisely. You should listen to his commands, he is your prince. And if he decides to wait, Dorne will wait."  
"And what is he waiting for? You are back, but Jaenna is dead and-" but Oberyn stopped her.  
"I'll talk to you and girls. But not here and now. Go back to your chamber and go to sleep, the sun is almost rising. And I really mean your chamber, do not wish me to escort you."

Obara looked at him a little while longer, then she bowed, leaned her spear on the stall again and marched briskly to the gate. The second person, on which she could recognize only an orange doublet looking like her father's in this faint light of the setting moon, backed off to the shadows. But she didn't stop to find who it was. Part of her anger left her when she saw Oberyn alive, just only for a new wave, because it seemed like he didn't desire to avenge his own daughter. Brutally martyred and burnt by a lunatic calling himself the King! She didn't understand. He was even there, they ripped her off his hands and he, instead of chopping the heads of all those dragon fools and their laughable white guard of supposedly the most honorable knights of the realm, commended Doran's delay? She hoped he would really explain this to them. So she went back for now and hoped he would explain that. But if he wouldn't, she wouldn't let them catch her the next night.

Oberyn waited until his second daughter disappeared towards the big courtyard and only after he looked out and made sure she didn't try to take a round back, turned to the person in the shadows.  
"Let's go, till the palace sleeps."

He wasn't sure what to do next. He definitely had to tell Doran about everything, which would be the fifth man knowing the eerie secret about Aerys's flames beside him, Hotah, Ashara and prince Rhaegar. And five people would mean five times bigger danger, that it would not stay a secret. Would it be anyone else, he wouldn't hesitate and made sure about their silence as well as he made sure about the silence of that Myrish captain, for certain. And he probably could trust Doran. Or hopefully Hotah, a man loyal to the grave and without friends to drink and blab with. He would have to watch only Ashara, who would perhaps never betray anyone purposely, on the other hand, she didn't belong to the very narrow range of Oberyn's confidants, and especially Rhaegar. He had helped them, however, who could guarantee he would not possess the same dragon madness as his father did? And if he would, how long it would take? Was he falling for it even now? That's why he unpleasantly realized, that in spite of it being painful, other girls would have to remain in the dark. They were children, only Obara reached the border of womanhood, but her hot-blooded temperament copying so much his own didn't help her. And that was only one part of the whole problem. The other, the existence of the dragon and the need to hide it from the world, meant much more complicated questions. Because unlike Jaenna, they would not be able to keep it in some clandestine chamber for long. How long before the stables wouldn't be enough? A year? Two? Or five?

"Obara won't forget that. She wouldn't want to hear any talk," Jaenna warned her father while she headed the same way as Obara at first, thus to the small door near the kitchen.  
"I know. She will want to go and kill him. I and Doran will find a way to stop her from any idiocy."

Jaenna smiled, which Oberyn didn't see. Therefore, he didn't see her smile was far from reaching her eyes and seemed bitter. Then she let Melyngar wrapped in the scarf because of the wild ride to the Water Gardens climb onto her shoulder again. And spoke with an utterly common tone, as if she was saying it's snowing in the North.  
"Aerys is already dead anyway."


	19. Chapter 19

_**I know it's been a long, long time. Too long. But I truly didn't stop write this story. I just don't have enough time or mind to write. But I have enough notes to finish this, so, finally, here's the next chapter. This time, it's Robert's. Or rather Jon's. The war begins.**_

* * *

Robert sat grimly in the High Hall of the Eyrie. Cheerful, jovial man full of laughter and loud entertainment in other times, a man who would hurry down the mountain to see little Mya, bastard he fathered with one Vale woman despite his youth, rather than sitting in a quiet, lonely hall, was silent and stared in front of him. On a piece of parchment pressed with a cup on one side, with his hand on the other, to prevent it from rolling. Would someone who barely knew him watch him now, he'd think this wasn't lord of the stormy house whose words were Ours is the fury. But Jon Arryn, his former guardian and his friend, knew the truth. Robert was the stormy lord, now more than ever. And his was the fury.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Jon? Draw the sword, let's be over with it," Robert growled half seriously but didn't move. His eyes would have burned the latter if possible, that much he stared at it.  
"Don't make yourself a fool, Robert. This is madness. I can not obey such order. My honor and everything I've ever sworn..."  
"The Others take your honor!"  
"Do you want me to do it? To behead you and Ned?"  
"Aerys' head is the one I want!" Robert snapped out finally.  
"He killed them, Jon, he tortured them to death! Set them on fire like dry logs in old hag's kitchen and let them burn to ashes! And why? Because they haven't run first?! And her, Jon!" he howled so darkly the whole mountain had to shake. "They dragged her through the streets like the last slut and threw her to the flames! And what did I do?!"  
"You fought for your life. Nothing of what you have to blame yourself. You are lucky you managed to run before they took you to the dungeon. You couldn't do any more. You were alone."

Jon had heard the story from Robert himself. He couldn't head home, to the Storm's End, he would never make it through the city to the Kingsroad. But he could flee to the harbor and go back with the ship that carried him from the Gulltown in the Vale before. Then he told Jon how he smashed the face of one of the soldiers that came for him and broke the neck of another one, and about his headless escape into the harbor after that. How he was fleeing with princess Jaenna Martell after he found her upon a stabbed guard and wanted to help her from a certain royal punishment. How the King betrothed her to his royal child and then judged her for stealing him away. The Mad King was true to his name once again. But then the message came, that completely overshadowed his previous madness. Robert barely escaped with his life, so he couldn't rip Jaenna from the hands of the soldiers. Therefore, they brought her before the King and he executed her. Alongside lord Stark and his heir, for they, according to him, intervened to her help and prevented her arrest. It was clear to Jon, that Aerys' doings had to be unprecedented, as even Rickard Stark couldn't let some dornish woman who meant nothing to him, nothing at all, to suffer her fate. Only gods knew what actually happened and what reason did they have, but it had to be truly serious. It had to seem wrongful to them. And now the most recent command. To execute new lord Stark and Robert, should he ever stick his face into the Vale again.

"And what shall I do now, huh? Aerys wants me dead. Shall I sit here peacefully and cravenly protect my neck? I will go back, alone. If he wants me, let him take me! We shall see the showdown!"  
"Ned is heading north at dusk. I've already prepared him for the descent, you know that. I won't hand you over like rams for slaughter. This has already crossed all the bearable limits, you are like the sons I've never had, I won't let him kill you. My swords are yours to your protection. But not everyone will want to take this risk and I am afraid the King sent messages to other lords of the Vale, if not to the whole realm. Perhaps they won't be eager to obey my call to allegiance."  
"Let them try. I bring down every fool standing up for Aerys. And then I bring down him, into the deepest of seven hells!"  
"We will need more than that. We will need your lords, Robert, as well as Rickard's. We descent at dawn, call banners from the Bloody Gate and you depart south. Your journey is not much safer than Ned's, but it's shorter and even if only one of you should succeed, we can not give up."

And as the old Jon Arryn, great lord and Protector of the Vale, man raising Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon for years, not as his wards but as his own children, said, so they have done. He and Robert made the descent from the Eyrie at dawn, meanwhile, Ned left the previous day to disappear to the Fingers and find a boat there. It was a safer option than a populous harbor where anyone could notice him. Anyone who might be an enemy. Ned became the new lord of Winterfell and his duty was to stand for his life, his family and his people. Jon also sent ravens to his own lords, still from the Eyrie, and asked them to stand for their liege and add their voices and weapons against the King whose tyranny can not be forgiven any longer. He declared the mobilization and called everyone to the Bloody Gate. It was the only chance. He hadn't the mind to obey his King. And his King hadn't the mind to act sensibly. So he had to fight or die.

Restless lord Baratheon surely had to feel it like unbearably long time. In fact, they waited only for three days in Bloody Gate so far. Days in which first envoys of other corners of the Vale arrived and first ravens from lords with lands too far to come delivered their messages. A lot of them declared, that Aerys' tyranny shouldn't cross the border of their kingdom, that no army he could send for Jon's friends would pass the mountains, or that the King had to answer for his crimes already. Majority of them promised their men to lord Arryn and fulfilled the vows of their forefathers. However, not all of them.

Some kept their silence. Some were constrained and afraid to proclaim for one side. And some wanted to honor the vows that were more important in their eyes. Some felt fealty to the King had a bigger value than the one to the lord paramount. Jon Arryn counted on it, although he did not like Graftons of all, the lords of the Gulltown, showed displeasure with the rebellious declaration and didn't want to oppose the Iron Throne. He was worried how would Robert react.

But these thoughts weren't something with what should he trouble himself. Robert didn't take this reports very seriously. He barely noticed. It was a mere nuisance. His mind was burdened with other ideas after three days of planning. And with the question that Jon also didn't put to rest for this whole time. What would he do. What would happen if he won. But Robert didn't want to think about any of it. He wasn't suited for the planning of an uncertain future. He always wanted only enjoy himself or cool his anger and ire when he felt some, like now. He didn't deal with thoughts about his future. Kill Aerys, marry Lyanna, fuck everyone in his way. Avenge everyone to whom did Aerys hurt. He repeated only this. This was the only future he saw and was willing to discuss in the halls of Bloody Gate.

And a proper garrison already gathered there. Soldiers from the closest holdfasts and settlements, knights of the Gate, all Royces and several women to look after food and arrangements. Even little Myranda Royce, daughter of the Keeper of the Gates of the Moon, Arryn's winter castle, despite she didn't understand what's going on at all. And next to her, Mya tottered under their feet. Mya, whose mother joined the crowd of newcomers, hungry after news and naively after the reunion with her former lover. Her feelings waned too slow, unlike his. Robert's mind didn't stray to her either.

He sat at the table, frowning. Jon asked him again. He only said he's going to crush the King. And Jon had to ask! What would he do next.

He looked at that little, hairy savage who laughed so much when he rocked her on his knees and threw her in the air. Now she toddled on the ground next to the dais with lords bench. He didn't mind, he didn't chase her away and didn't let someone else do it. The counsels ended, for now, lords, knights and commanders rested and Robert stayed alone in the hall, with Jon and Mya. The sight of her had always cheered him. She had his eyes and the same wind-swept hair. He never told her she's his child, nor anyone else. But that didn't mean they couldn't have fun. Only now he was in no mood for fun. He would never admit it aloud, yet he realized he wouldn't see this tot again should he lose. Because he would be doomed.

"Robert, you can't go to war and not know what are you fighting for. You keep saying you strike down Aerys' head, but what about the Queen? His loyal men? Do you think Rhaegar will be enough for them? Or that they will leave you alone? You can not kill one king and not know how it will work with another."  
"But I don't intend to put Rhaegar on the throne," he muttered the first thing that occurred to him. It came by itself, he didn't actually think about that. But he sensed it's right.  
"And what do you want?"  
"I want to kill every fucking Targaryen. Rhaegar? The Queen? Haven't you hear? Haven't you hear the last reports? They were watching! They were watching as the dragon shit burned them! And that glorious fucking Rhaegar?! I... he stoked under her!" he shouted out. Mya gave a lurch and looked at him. Fright and shadow of fear crossed her face. Robert didn't notice. New words were coming from the court every now and then, more like gossips. Including details about the cruelty of the execution.  
"And what about the babes? And young Viserys?"  
"That little shit is most to blame. They were about to give her to him!"  
"You want to kill them all. The family of your father's cousin..."  
"Family?! No such thing as a family! Dragon cunt and his spawn!"

Jon saw the current desires of lord Baratheon. All mercy run out of him. Even youngest Targaryens weren't innocent to him. He could watch Mya, unhappy with the shouting, but neither Aegon, Rhaenys, nor Viserys were mirroring in her to him. Perhaps they weren't humans anymore.  
"War then. War for the throne. If we lose, we will die. You the very first."  
"No, Jon. We'll lose only if I die."

Jon understood then, that Robert didn't care about future either. He didn't care whether would he have to kill children, wipe out the whole house or perhaps raze the city to the ground. But at the same time, he couldn't suppress his feeling, that should they win and stay alive, the new king arose in front of him. Who else should unite them? Robert wouldn't stop until he removed even Rhaegar as the Mad King's heir. He was too old already himself. Ned would arrive north, hopefully, and return with his army, but he would never ignite a spark in anyone else than his Northerners. His nature wasn't fit for politics. And who else did they have? Robert would be the commander. Robert would be the face. As always and for everyone who ever met him. Robert would be the king of the rebels. And Lyanna, gods be good, his queen?

But it wasn't only about them. Jon rather didn't ask whether he truly intended to kill prince Rhaegar's offsprings, however, he thought about it. Robert barely escaped, while Aerys executed princess Jaenna Martell and Ned's father and brother. He had to think they joined the opposition. Jon only thanked the gods the mountain clans prevented his journey to the capital because he couldn't delay some solution regarding them anymore. So he sent Robert alone. Not that it mattered now. The important thing was, Ned was like family to Robert, he was the friend of the North and the North would look up to him as Ned. Jaenna... he wasn't sure about her. It seemed to him she was the perfect mistress to Robert. Wild, free-minded Dornishwoman. Or second wife, could he have more. That would mean the support from Dorne under other circumstances. Or Robert's justified attempt to gain the support from Dorne, at least. They were friends and to play on the string of revenge could mean a composition. But with Aegon and Rhaenys, Aerys had even their mother on his hand. And would be Doran Martell willing to risk his sister after his niece? And other niece and nephew? Dorne would be a real wild card.

But he shared none of it with Robert. He knew he would listen to him only until it irritated him, which wouldn't take long. Not now. He just watched him to sit little Mya on the bench, when she grabbed his leg, and stand up.

The babe looked at him by the same bright blue eyes and stretched her arms toward him. She was used to clowning around with him. He always threw her in the air, laughed with her, spun with her, so wildly that Jon was afraid she would fly out of his hands and break her head against the wall. Mya only laughed and crowed. Just now wasn't play time. They had to find out which side would the Riverlands between the North and the Vale chose when the Mad King executed betrothed of the Hoster's eldest, the one who should become the lady of Winterfell. And mainly get his own vassals who didn't make any statement to join him. If Hoster Tully decided to remain faithful to his vassal pledge to the King, the Gulltown would be Jon's only way out of the Vale. And just that one spoke against him.

Robert stated, that he would knock Graftons on their knees, because no one would stay in his way for revenge, of course. He didn't talk about heads for once at least. But even that still stood somewhere before them. The first step and not the worst one at all.

"Robert, where are you going?" Jon asked when Robert was almost out of the hall.  
"I can not stand to just sit here any longer. We are here for three days and nothing is happening!"  
"We have to wait for the men to gather. We have to prepare for anything that comes."  
"I don't want to wait. Give the order to build the vanguard. I will be in command. We march on Graftons. Let it begin!"

First step. Not the worst one.


	20. Chapter 20

**I wrote the last chapter an enormous time ago, right? Last summer in Paris, I remember. But I did it, here is another one! And I really have no idea when did Doran start to suffer by gout, so here he doesn't suffer, but sometimes his knuckles ache and a long journey or a lot of movement is difficult for him.**

* * *

At the moment Jaenna finally stepped into the palace, into the coldness of the marble passages drowned in such a darkness that no one would recognize their pink colour, which was meant for the joy of ancient princess Daenerys by ancient prince Maron, she felt like falling to her knees, touching the cold tiles, hugging first slim column in her reach and surrender to this growing feeling overflowing her body. That she's home.  
But the dragon in her arms wriggled and pulled the scarf in which he was wrapped.

She's not home.  
It's not like it used to be and would no more. The feeling quickly faded. No one could know she's alive or that dragon was born. She wouldn't be allowed to remain princess Nymeros Martell. She wouldn't be allowed to run around Dorne like Sand Snake. Anyway, as she realized, she truly wasn't one. She'd been living in a sham they made around her and now it fell. The tanned princess with dark curls, wild ideas, three fierce sisters and snake body. It all burned away. Now, new hair sprouted on her head, an orange coat was hiding her tired naked body, silk scarf in her hands was hiding a dragon and she had two silver brothers. One they wanted to betroth her to and one with whom...  
The dragon jerked the scarf again and tried to break free.  
It didn't matter. None of them helped her. They only took everything from her. Home? This couldn't be home any longer. And she was sure prince Doran would confirm it.

"So, it is true..." Doran rose from his chair and watched his brother with an uncommonly serious look underlined by dim candlelight and a shorter person in Oberyn's embroidered coat, hood over her head and silk scarf in her hand heading to him through the dark hall. It had to be Jaenna. He didn't like from the beginning, that Oberyn wanted to take her to the King's Landing among all the Targaryens. He didn't know why he thought it dangerous, he kept telling himself it's his excessive caution. And he had to agree, they travelled enough places for her to handle King's Landing without an issue. And that only Oberyn attending the celebration of the crown prince's heir would be improper. To take at least one more member of house Martell was more decent. At least when Doran couldn't go, because long travelling started to take its toll on him, especially in the form of pain in his legs. As well as the birth of his own first son was recent enough, that the court etiquette was at sea. And Jaenna wasn't a completely courtly unknown or minor girl. Princess befriending the lord paramount of Stormlands, a possible match for the heir of the lord paramount of Trident, as the latter proposed. Even though Jaenna didn't care much and Oberyn was giving so much freedom to all his daughters, that even other dornish ladies couldn't really imagine, this proved certain status. Only he was right in the end. It was dangerous. It was naive and foolish. It was disastrous. Jaenna should stay in Dorne. They should choose some Dornishman for her. Or turn to the Free Cities, if she still preferred some adventure. Maybe they should accept Hoster Tully's proposal. Remove her safely from everyone's thoughts. Anything, although Jaenna would undoubtedly make a fuss due to her temperament inherited from Oberyn. She would still have to obey. And not to send her into the maelstrom of intrigue and betrayal, in which their own mother sent Elia, once she had won over Tywin Lannister and made the King choose her instead of the Tywin's maiden. Now Aerys completely lost any control and it was a miracle to see Jaenna in front of him.

"You are alive," Doran got quickly on his feet to meet them.  
"But we have a bigger problem," Oberyn kept his serious face.  
Doran didn't understand. His daughter survived, they both got out of the city and nobody else knew, at least according to the messages he's got. They were as safe as they could in Westeros. He trusted Oberyn and his ability to get them home without unwanted attention. Now they only had to hide her. Again.

"What problem? And where is Hotah?" Doran looked around and noticed the absence of his captain of guards, who should secure their journey from the Plankytown. Well, he still remained the guard of his wife, but he also gained considerable respect during his stay in Dorne, that Doran entrusted him much more. His loyalty and efficiency were hardly comparable even with other loyal Dornish.  
"He gave us fresh horses and now he's accompanying lady Dayne. Someone may remember seeing me too, but it does not matter. They must know I'm gone from the dungeons long since."  
"There'd been no message or demand from the King."  
"Do you believe he's given up? Now even Dorne will be his enemy if he doesn't settle for me. And gods save Rhaegar if he won't take care of Elia's safety. He shall move her on Dragonstone at least, but I don't think the King will allow. That..." Oberyn paused and took a breath to prevent a needless burst of concerns about his sister. There was no way to help her for him now and he had to concentrate on a more important task. Elia still had Rhaegar and Arthur Dayne, Rhaegar's good friend from her homeland, and all their supporters. Jaenna just him.  
"But Hotah contributes to the story that lady Ashara returned from the capital after all this because of her... delicate condition."  
"So what is this bigger problem?" Doran still didn't understand, but his eyes slid towards Jaenna.

She took two steps forward towards his chair into which he returned when Oberyn cooled down his thrill of their return. Then she pulled off the scarf and Doran realized she held no package.

"Gods..."  
"Gods of old Valyria," Oberyn added grimly.  
"But how...?"  
Oberyn took a breath to say he doesn't know. But Jaenna spoke.  
"By fire and blood. I didn't die. Those two men... Starks... they became blood sacrifice. And dragon blood of my own... and gods of Valyria. Rhaegar suspected it, that's why he brought the egg on the pile. He suspected it's alive, we both felt it when..." she stopped. "Old magic. Only he and lady Ashara know. And the three of us."

Doran kept staring at the dragon. It grumpily looked around the hall. Oberyn was already used to this view, but it still filled him with uncertainty. He'd been thinking a lot about this. To hide Jaenna wouldn't be difficult. They could manage it even in Dorne, Dornishmen would stand for them. And if not, there always was the rest of the world, Free Cities, islands, essosi seats no one from Westeros cared about. But with a dragon? A dragon that would not look only like a winged lizard and wouldn't hide in the pocket before long? The whole Red Mountains wouldn't be enough. He thought he should never bring the egg home. Maybe it saved Jaenna, maybe she didn't burn because of her blood and their connection, but, for all the fucking gods, what now?

"She can't stay here, not for long," Doran stated when Oberyn told him his opinion. "Jaenna, I love you, you are my family, but I am not able to hide a dragon, real living dragon, in all Dorne."  
Jaenna didn't doubt that. So she was right in her assumptions. She even understood it, she knew it's true. Oberyn wasn't the only one who'd been thinking about the future. But in contrast with Doran's pragmatic playing cyvasse with his own people, she listened also to her desires. And these weren't so pragmatic. The Water Gardens had always been her home. She'd never wanted to live elsewhere, even though she wanted to see the world. Her place had always been in Dorne. And now they had to exile her because she had the misfortune of surviving a brutal execution. The insanity of this went beyond the borders of injustice. But she wasn't able to give them an answer. She wasn't able to think about any plan. And she wasn't able to get rid of the growing ire.

"If you excuse me, I have to... change into a proper dress and bath. My prince. Father," she curtsied and left before any of them tried to stop her. If they ever meant to. It seemed to her they didn't need her to decide her fate. They didn't need her when she was born, they didn't need her when they decided to lie to her about everything, they didn't need her now. They started to make plans by themselves.

"Ashara won't betray anything, maybe Rhaegar can... mean some danger. And Obara can't stay oblivious, or she runs to the King's Landing and gets herself killed after she attacks first Targaryen cloak," she heard her father and knew they would act accordingly. After all, they stopped Obara just before she did it. Therefore, he would probably tell her her sister survived. He would make up some reason, some story and force her to swear not to tell. The way Obara worshipped him, she would obey. She would want to protect her sister and would swear to take this secret to the grave. Nym too, although it would be more difficult to make her keep silent. And Tyene wouldn't even remember she had a sister. She would forget in few months. Just like Arianne. They are only children and Jaenna, who already grew out of children's shoes, didn't spend much time with them. Quentyn wouldn't know some Jaenna lived. And Doran with lady Mellario would pretend the same. She would remain only a girl tortured to death, a cruel stain on Aerys' reign. Princess Jaenna would no longer exist.

She sneaked into her chamber, sat the dragon on her untouched bed and sat down next to it. She clasped her hand around one of the carved canopy columns. Her bed. Her floor mats. Her purple bedspread. The chamber of princess Jaenna.  
She still existed. And would have to become something. Leave everything. And everyone. She's not Martell. She's no snake. And no dragon either. What would she have to become?  
But then she stood up again. Why would she have to? Why should they take her everything? Why don't do it now and by herself?

She opened a big wardrobe next to the window. Then started to sort her dresses and pick the best ones. Shoes and jewellery. Most beloved books. The most expensive perfume. And her bow. Especially her bow. A strange thought came to her. How pleased she was when she defeated ser Jaime with another bow. How naughty she felt when the story ran throughout the whole castle, although she didn't want to ridicule him. How enjoyable time it was and how he could be a good companion once they found something they both were interested in. Just like with Robert. He... had to get away. Maybe home. If Aerys caught and executed him, Doran would have told her. She remembered wishing him to be caught and punished while she'd been in dungeons because he didn't help her. Now she realized she didn't want it, not really. Robert was merry and loud lord, but she knew he saw hard moments of his own. And they truly were friends, even though she would never think of it at the beginning. He tried to seduce her on the Dragonstone back then. She arrived as well as now, for the celebration of princess Rhaenys' birth. But Elia's health was too frail to move prince's court into the capital. So some lords including Robert representing the whole Stormlands gathered on the island. And she with Doran and Oberyn had no reason to fear any journey. Dragonstone, the household where her aunt reigned, was safe. And she didn't understand at all then, what Robert saw in her. She was just a wench whose rich dress covered her thinness and the fact, that a lot didn't grow enough for her to look like the woman she's now yet. But Robert was little drunk and who knew what did he saw at all. And she could deal with him wittily, so he didn't stop to chase her until the celebration's end. She intrigued him. Never succumbed. Always had an answer. And instead of chasing other girls - she doubted he didn't at all, though - he befriended her. She didn't behave like other ladies, didn't show interests like other ladies, moreover, she was Dornishwoman and Robert let himself get carried away. He certainly never stopped to hope he'd got under her skirts, which Jaenna didn't intend to allow, but their friendship persisted and they didn't see the last of themselves. Tourneys, even grand hunting trips when he returned into the Storm's End for several days. Therefore no, she didn't really hope Aerys would hurt him.

At that moment, she heard knock on her door. Which she ignored. As well as second and third. And when the door opened, she didn't have to turn around to see who stood there. She just continued to pile her things on her bed. Why pretend some courtesy at all? She's not their princess and she's not their subject. She's nothing. She's no one. And no one doesn't bow.

"See? You want me to run. I'm preparing. So where will it be? Lys and my fairy-tale lives on? Pentos among the merchants? Will I pretend my father was selling cheese and spices and let myself be buried in the mansion and bed of one of them? Lady Mellario generously offered wardenship with her family in Norvos? Does she have a nephew to marry and pretend I'm Norvosi noblewoman? I would fit there, I have no hair."  
"That was rude," Oberyn warned her, but not too harshly. Rather sadly. He couldn't blame her for her anger. He accepted his own exile as an adventure. His daughter's exile was... something utterly different. She wasn't free to enjoy the vast world. She would have to pretend she's someone else till death. Aerys' death with a bit of luck.  
"But I'm right, am I not? I'm not home here anymore. And Melyngar means grave danger. Obara..."  
"I caught her up on the terrace. She tried to listen. I told her we were smuggled out of the city right under Aerys' nose and he burned some other girl in your dress. She swore never betray you."  
And also didn't care some innocent girl allegedly died as long as she wasn't her family. Of course.  
"As I expected. So where will Doran send me? To what burning inferno of hells it will be now?" she finally turned to her father. She was rude. She didn't intend to hold back. She'd always been free and wilder. Hot tempered. But she had never scream on her father and prince. Joked with him, didn't talk with him as was proper with a lord, nor realized how much freedom was he giving her unlike all other girls and used it all the same, but never taken the liberty not to be inferior. Now she didn't care anymore. It didn't matter what was proper and what was impolite. She felt rage and pain and wanted not to be the only one. Melyngar bared her teeth.

"First of all, away from here. Doran showed me other letters that arrived during our sail."  
Jaenna suggested him to continue with a shrug.  
"Robert Baratheon sent a raven from Bloody Gate. He's sworn revenge and denounced loyalty to Targaryens because they broke their obligations and called for his head. He has to have the support of the Vale and of course, the North lost its lords. We don't want to send you into any burning hells. The hell will be here. War is coming."


End file.
